


Sisyphus and Icarus

by hocotate



Series: Chaptered fics [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Breathplay, Dom/sub, HunHan - Freeform, Internalized Homophobia, Love Triangles, M/M, Masochism, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Philosophy, Romance, S&M, Sadomasochism, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, University, Unrequited Love, Unsafe Sex, layhan - Freeform, layhunhan, lowkey baekxing, lowkey chanbaek, platonic sekai, sexing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2018-10-06 03:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 114,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10324607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hocotate/pseuds/hocotate
Summary: Sehun is a self-loathing pessimist who doesn't want to be attracted to some clinically insane, masochistic exchange student. Yixing, however, is too adorable to resist.Or: In which both Sehun and Luhan want Yixing for themselves.





	1. Chapter 1

There is something oddly funny about how someone can just walk into your life without you really knowing how or why you had let it happen, and then come back again after the initial pain has passed and when you think that you have already forgotten them. It is funny but cruel, and all you can really do is either sit back and accept it in defeat, letting it unravel as the other person gains control again, or fight it with all that is left of your broken heart.

 

Those were the thoughts running through Sehun’s head when he found himself thinking back, carelessly wondering if it had all been worth it in the end. While it was not his own heart had been unintentionally broken, it had by himself been stretched, pierced, tested beyond measure, and it had hurt far more than he had been willing to admit. Now smiling sadly yet nostalgically at the memories, he lit another cigarette and sighed. It still hurt, but not as much.

 

He had never really wanted to fall in love some short-term exchange student whose eyes were tired but searching and whose beliefs were almost the same as his own. He had never wanted to give his heart to someone who would ultimately leave him - at least that was what he had told himself at first - but life was harsh and unpredictable and always seemed to have some alternate ending in store for those who wished too hard.

 

It was windy, too windy for summer, and with a slight scowl Sehun tossed the already burnt out cigarette away, watching it circle through the dry air and disappear out of sight. Memories of frosty, windless nights came back to him in that moment, and with a quick glance at the resting figure next to him, at the almost dried flower petals stuck in the other’s hair as the only remains of spring, he came to a sincere conclusion to the question which had been stuck in his mind for months: yes. It had all been worth it.

 

 

 

_(many months earlier)_

 

“We need to get you laid”

 

“How about no”

 

With an loud whine, Sehun tried to stop his friend from snatching the book he was reading away but failed. The dry, printed words had been dancing impatiently in front of his eyes for hours and now Jongin was stealing them, only to snap him on the nose and complain about things he had nothing to do with.

 

“All you ever do is study and suffer. You need some good ass”

 

Sehun covered his hurting nose with stiff, slender fingers, sending his friend an evil look as he did.

 

“Not interested”

 

Trying and once again failing to recapture the book, he listened with a frown to Jongin who kept complaining. He loved his roommate and childhood friend, he really did, but the words occasionally leaving his mouth in well-intended concern usually meant nothing for Sehun who was as stubborn as he was pseudo-depressed.

 

“You keep saying that but it’s not true, and furthermore,” Jongin began and pressed his hand against Sehun’s face when the latter tenaciously kept reaching for the book, “we can get you any kind of ass. Whatever kind you prefer”

 

Sehun groaned, shoving the calloused palm away from his face and glaring intensely in a futile attempt to burn a hole through his friend’s forehead. It was safe to say that Jongin’s head remained intact.

 

“I seriously doubt that” he muttered before letting his head fall to the table, burying his face in his arms. It was late, too late to be studying in fact, but there was nothing else to do and Sehun did not feel like going out. He rarely did, nowadays - maybe Jongin was right about him, after all.

 

Sighing but shrugging, his friend finally let go of the book and stopped trying. It was pointless, as usual.

 

“Suit yourself, then”

 

It was not that Sehun’s taste was bizarre or even overly particular - it was just different. Normatively frowned upon. It did not matter much, though, for he had already had his fair share of sexual activity and even though he sometimes found himself cursing the fact that his own hand was not always enough, it was okay. Life was already meaningless, he thought, but there was definitely more to it than sex and cheap alcohol.

 

Rising from the hard, wooden chair on which he had been sitting for far too long before hitting the back of his friend’s head a bit too hard, he ignored the other’s painful whines and went straight to the window, throwing it open and smelling the already crisp air of late autumn. It was refreshing, the way tiny bumps formed on his skin because of the cold, but not enough to stop him from reaching for some almost empty lighter and fill his lungs with something entirely else than clean oxygen. He would smoke one or two cigarettes - maybe a whole package - and then fall asleep to the sound of Jongin complaining about how their ventilation was not good enough for this lethal addiction of his. Then he would wake up and repeat, over and over again like he always did.

 

 

 

“What’s with you today?”

 

Sehun jolted out of his empty thoughts and turned to his friend with a tired expression. The night before had brought sleeplessness, as usual; an hour had turned into two and later three, four, five, and before he knew it, the ground below him had been specked with butts from not only two or three but countless cigarettes. Behind him on the inside, Jongin had fallen asleep with his clothes on, limbs spread out all across their shared bed, and Sehun had not wanted to wake him - that was at least what he had used as an excuse for why he had stayed up alone until dawn, but he knew as well as his best friend that it was not true. While insomnia had never been a problem of his - falling asleep was usually quite easy, in fact - he preferred the drowsy state of mind to the clear one. It was more interesting, more stimulating to look at world with a distorted vision, especially when “the world” was in reference to the dull, sparsely furnitured campus cafeteria in which he was currently sitting with some fellow students, supposedly enjoying his meal but in fact staring mindlessly at stranger’s faces.

 

“What?” he asked with a voice hoarse from the amount of tar stuck on the walls of his trachea. Jongin poked his side, slightly amused.

 

“You’re distracted” 

 

“Oh, sorry. Just tired”

 

There were a few minutes of no further inquisition as they continued to consume their meals in silence, trying to accumulate enough energy to survive an afternoon full of boring but nevertheless important lectures. Sehun poked his food and frowned, eventually deciding that a rumbling stomach was preferable to the slimy excuse of a vegetable in front of him, and looked up again. With his chin resting heavily against the palm of his hand, he did what he always did instead of eating and let his gaze travel from face to face without really thinking, occasionally letting it linger on someone with particularly fine features. It was not like he was actually _looking_ at anyone - he just needed somewhere to rest his eyes for a while, because shutting them would make him look even more decadent than he already was.

 

“He’s one of the newly arrived, right?” Jongin suddenly said in an unusually discreet manner, but it had Sehun jump nonetheless. “The cute one?”

 

There was a hint of a smirk on his lips when he wiped them clean with the back of his hand and watched Sehun who sat confused, convinced that he had missed some important part of a conversation.

 

“Who?” he asked, wondering what his friend had been talking about while searching the nearby tables with his gaze. Jongin rolled his eyes.

 

“The one you’ve been staring at for the past twenty minutes. The one with the dimple”

 

Sehun froze, his face suddenly taken over by a flush of red without him really knowing why. It was not unsusual for his eyes to end up stuck on someone, but to say that he had been staring would be an overstatement seeing as his face was usually blank enough for anyone to see that he was in fact half-asleep. Now trying to figure out who Jongin had been referring to, his gaze stopped by a nearby table by which a group of people, mostly foreign, were sitting, conversing loudly about things he did not understand.

 

“I haven’t” was all he could manage to let out, muttering, in a half-hearted protest while nonetheless keeping his gaze fixed. Among the many loud students, a modestly looking one was sitting, squeezed in between vivacious bodies while silently shoving food into the mouth his slightly annoyed friend, the latter a cocky but cute exchange student whose name Sehun knew only because people all around him would not stop talking about “how beautiful that new kid Luhan is”. Furrowing his eyebrows a bit in sudden focus, Sehun watched the quiet one whose small smile was indeed adorned by a deep dimple, and thus concluded that he must be the one he had been unconsciously looking at.

 

Jongin chuckled a bit, snapping his overly focused friend out of his thoughts. He said no more but anyone could see the smirk which made him look as if he knew something that no one else did, and Sehun muttered more, proceeding to pick his food. He wanted to repeat his words, wanted to tell everyone that he had in fact not been staring, but since his friend was a delusional asshole and a lover of teenage drama, he decided not to.

 

Keeping quiet when Jongin continued to engage in some pointless conversation with the others, Sehun looked up again, not entirely sure why but with a strange feeling in his stomach. He wanted to have one last look at that dimpled stranger, wanted to let his gaze rest a little bit more, but regret and embarrassment instantly filled his body when a pair of dark, droopy eyes met his. The quiet one was looking at him from across the tables in what looked like slight surprise, but the questioning expression was soon wiped off when the dimple reappeared, causing Sehun to sweat and shiver, unable to look away despite the awkwardness in his body. The smile was not like Jongin’s but warm and sweet, as if sent by a family member or close friend, and the other’s irises were almost sparkling beneath the lashes fluttering above his crescent eyes. Not that Sehun could make that out from the distance, but it was what he for a short second imagined.

 

In sudden realization of that his mouth was hanging slightly open, he awkwardly returned the smile before quickly lowering his head, breaking eyecontact with the dimpled stranger. Beside him, Jongin was deep in some mindless conversation about chicks, booze and illegally thrown parties, hopefully unaware of what had just happened. Sehun sighed and stood up.

 

“You're leaving?” Jongin looked at him with an almost offended expression, for it was an unspoken tradition for the two roommates to end lunch together before hanging out before the afternoon’s lectures. Sehun nodded, hoping that his violent yet unexplainable blushing would remain unmentioned.

 

“I just need some air, I’ll catch up with you later”

 

With quick steps leaving his friend behind, he bit the inside of his cheeks while wondering if nineteen cigarettes a day had finally got the best of him. The flush of warmth now spreading from face to neck would not go away and it almost had him go crazy in frustration, because he had never really acted so flustered in front of anyone before, especially not a stranger. While he had been caught looking at people before, for that was unavoidable when ones eyes easily got fixed on things, he had never really cared. No situation was ever awkward enough to be worth pondering over, which was why he now, despite the lingering sensation in his body, decided that the friendly smile sent by that modestly looking and frankly quite dull stranger would make no exception.

 

Finally stepping out of the cafeteria, he sighed deeply and ignored the perfectly clean bench right beside the entrance, aiming for the slightly damp stairstep instead. Empty thoughts did as usual start filling his head as soon as his malnourished bottom hit the cold, dirty concrete, and by the time he reunited with Jongin, the bland but dimpled stranger with a sweet smile was all forgotten.

 

 

 

 

Days passed and so did the last sunny rays of autumn. Sehun lived life as normal, silently reciting philosophical clichés while watching the last migratory birds fly by the auditorium window, neglecting parties that would have brought him nothing but existential pain anyway, and getting at Jongin's nerves with his pessimistic view on life. Maybe it was just that, the ennui and alienation that finally had him realize that he needed something more to do, something other than the usual “imitation before creation”-business that education was generally all about. Maybe it was the extreme boredom that had him apply for a web-based course offered by the department of theology and philosophy, despite the fact that there were no extra credit or job-related benefits and despite the fact that he was already studying full-time.

 

It was long since dark when he found himself sitting in some dimly lit corner of the university library, supposedly and in others’ eyes engrossed in his extracurricular studies but in actual fact watching the polluted sky through the many stained windows. No attempt was made to control the abstract but in many ways somber thoughts swirling through his mind, because the essay in front of him was practically finished, only in need of a few final touches. With a sigh, he traced his tired fingers over a line of words once scribbled onto the desk by himself.

 

“ _I know simply that the sky will last longer than I”_

 

He shut his eyes. While thousands of paragraphs if not more, stuffed with seemingly wise words had throughout the years been given to him as food for the soul, his body and mind now felt empty, drained, as if he had actually been filled with something of value to begin with. It was as if the apathy-like boredom born from mindlessly consuming articles and essays when told to had automatically caused him to realize something, for he did after only a year at the university feel as enlightened as he was indifferent. While it was true that he had ever since he was little longed for some great truth - _the_ great truth - he had long ago come to realize that there was no such thing. No divines, no celestial wonders, no secrets of the universe waiting to get revealed. There was nothing, except for man and his futile attempts to find inherent value and meaning in life.

 

Swallowing the urge to chuckle at the absurdity of things, he opened his eyes and let them once again rest on the heavy clouds hanging low above the earth. It was cold outside, even colder than a few days ago when he had blown imaginary crystals at Jongin’s face, and the thick frost now covering the dead grass sparkled beneath streetlights like a thousand cut diamonds in the sun. The snow would start falling any day now, Sehun was sure of it.

 

Still letting his thoughts run freely, he did not keep track of time nor care to register the words laying spread out in front of him on pieces of dampstained paperbacks. His body was as still as it had been for hours, frozen in place where he sat with his chin resting against a naturally cold palm and legs crossed beneath the table in a way that would probably numb them. Sounds of pages turning could be heard faintly in the background but it was like music for his ears, like familiar songs being played on an old radio standing on the counter of some frequently visited corner store.

 

Minutes passed by unnoticed, uncared for, and Sehun kept dreaming, half-awake, half-asleep. Not until a soft voice started mumbling in the back of his head, disturbing his peace of mind, did he shuffle a bit, restlessly thinking that voices had never really been his thing. Maybe he was starting to show signs of that schizophrenia which Jongin had always accused him of having. Trying to shut the unwanted noise out, he finally turned to the words for rescue, but the voice kept speaking, modestly asking him to turn around.

 

_Living, naturally, is never easy. You continue making the gestures commanded by existence for many reasons-_

 

“Hello?”

 

_-the first of which is habit. Dying voluntarily implies that you have recognized, even instinctively, the ridiculous character of that habit-_

 

“Excuse me?”

 

_-the abscence of any profound reason for living, the insane character of that daily agitation, and the uselessness of suffering-_

 

“The Myth of Sisyphus?”

 

Sehun paused, startled but deep inside not surprised by the sudden realization that the voice was real and in fact not imaginary. It would have been a lie to say that it seldom happened that he mistook reality for fantasy - not because he was in any way clinically insane, but more because of his incurable indifference towards the physical world and its every aspect. Now blaming the many cups of bitter coffee consumed throughout the day, he turned around in his seat but immediately regretted it, for the person speaking with a heavy accent looked all too familiar.

 

“That book. It’s for one of the web-courses, right? On epistemology?”

 

Temporarily tongue-tied and with a vacant expression, Sehun watched the dimpled stranger in front of him stare as if he was looking at some strange, extraterrestial creature, but he could not blame him. He was too tired for this, too tired to talk to or even face another human being - especially one that had happened to be the victim of his unintentional but nevertheless creepy staring one day at lunch.

 

Obviously flustered by Sehun’s speechlessness, the stranger let out a small, excusing smile while scratching his neck in a way that shouted awkwardness. His face was pretty - one would be have to be mad to deny that - but the way his eyeballs were speckled with dozens of tiny, broken veins almost made him look as if he shared Sehun’s habit of never going to bed before five in the morning. Reaching out his surprisingly small hand, he pointed with a lean finger at the book referred to.

 

“I was looking for it but it seems like you already claimed it” He laughed nervously. “They told me it’s the only copy so I wondered when you’ll be done with it”

 

“Oh” Sehun jolted out of his trance and cursed himself for being like this. It was not that people usually scared him or anything - social anxiety had as well as insomnia never been a real problem of his - but there was something about this particular stranger’s modest but somewhat cute appearance that had him at loss for words. While he looked ordinary on the outside, there was definitely something more to him, Sehun could tell without really knowing how.

 

Turning back to his desk, he looked at the spare pieces of almost blank paper that should had been filled with important notes and shoved them aside, for some reason wanting to hide the almost illegibly scribbled words “ _L’éternité, c’est long, surtout vers la fin_ ” from the other. The wanted book still lay open in front of him, words read and in a digital document already discussed, no longer needed in order to secure a good grade. While Sehun had at first planned to add a few, final touches to his essay, he did despite his serious lack of interest in mundane courses realize that there were more urgent matters demanding his precious time. Something did, furthermore, tell him that this dimpled stranger was in greater need of the book than he was.

 

“You can have it” he said simply while handing it over, informally shoving it into the others hands, and the stranger’s face broke into a wide smile.

 

“Really? I mean, I don’t want to steal it from you or anything. Maybe we can share-”

 

“No, really. You take it, I already read it”

 

There was a moment of silence between the two in which Sehun wished that the other would just thank him and walk away. He hoarded no bad feelings towards this stranger, not at all, but this kind of unforeseen encounter was more social activity than he was used to at this time of night and it had him, to be quite honest, mentally exhausted. Moreover - Jongin would as always meet him at home and surely bless him with some dramatic monologue about the dangers of smoking, and that was more than enough for Sehun who preferred the serene company of silence and nicotine.

 

Letting out a small cough like those usually seen only  in films or comics, he sent the other an implying glance but just before he had time to say anything, a piece of paper was ripped out from some worn out notebook and slammed loudly onto the desk before him, causing him to jump in shock and sudden fear.

 

“My number. In case you need it back”

 

Staring in bewilderment at the stranger who was now sporting a determined expression while somehow still looking uncertain and - Sehun would not lie to himself - rather cute, he nevertheless accepted the piece of paper and put it among his notes, unsure what to say or do next. The other was still looking at him with a face he could not decipher and while he deep inside longed to be left alone, to be able to pack his things in peace before heading back home, he did for some strange reason feel his heart skip a beat when the silence was once again broken.

 

“Sehun, right?”

 

Sehun almost gasped, taken aback by the fact that the stranger at whom he had been caught staring that day in the cafeteria knew his name. He had never talked to this person before, had never even seen him before that particular day, which was why he now only nodded, afraid that the words “ _are you stalking me_ ” would slip from his lips if he decided to part them. The stranger smiled and it looked just the same as before - warm and friendly, but now with a hint of something else as well, something cryptic and potentially dangerous.

 

“I’m Yixing”

 

Now sitting there unaccompanied but with a new number to add to his short list of contacts, Sehun watched the other - Yixing - step out of the library with the book pressed tightly against his chest. He turned his gaze back to the window - the snow had just started falling, just as he had predicted, and the last few students were already leaving. He sighed deeply.

 

Letting his head fall back into the palm of his hand, he did despite the flusteredness which had been the result of all of this feel the empty thoughts come running back to him. Monochrome shades of winter filled his head when he shut his eyes only to open them again seconds later, and the sight of Yixing on the outside, pulling up the hood of his jacket in order to protect his head from the many vicious snowflakes, caught his half-hearted attention. He tilted his head and watched for a while, wondering if the bag on the other’s shoulder was heavy enough to leave lasting marks, but did as usual fall back into mindless reverie within a few minutes.

 

_"Sehun, right? I'm Yixing"_


	2. Chapter 2

Sehun met Yixing again when the sky was clear and the snow already lay heavy on the ground, covering what was left of the now frozen grass. Sitting in the cafeteria at lunch with Jongin and the others like he usually did, quiet and with body awake but mind elsewhere, he was jolted out of somber thoughts by a finger tapping gently on his shoulder.

  
“Your book”  


Yixing’s voice was soft and trembling but his eyes spoke a slightly different story as Sehun looked up, taken by surprise and for social interraction as unprepared as last time. Only staring at the frayed book held in front of him by lean, clenching fingers, it took his lips a few too many seconds to move.  


“It’s not mine… You should return it to the library” he said, restlessly poking his overcooked excuse for food and because of awkwardness or some other reason not courageous enough to meet the other’s gaze. Yixing’s arms were still reached out in front of him with the book pointing towards Sehun.  


“I know, but I thought you might want it back”  


There was silence for a moment when Sehun finally gave in to eyecontact, unwillingy and unintentionally getting lost in the face which he had unconsciously been staring at before. There was something about it, something uncomfortably intriguing about the way the other’s features were bland but interesting, and he soon found himself trying hard to balance the desire to keep looking with the need to respond. Unaware of that his mouth was hanging slightly agape, he swallowed the urge to poke the impossibly deep dimple and spoke with a voice much colder than intended.  


“The essay was due last week..?”  


Yixing’s eyes grew wide, unfocusing for a moment before returning to reality, and Sehun almost felt bad for sounding so harsh to the stranger who had in fact not wronged him in any way. He didn’t know this person and while he had neither desire nor any intentions to do so, the slight shame hiding among the other’s features when he lowered his head gave birth to an unpleasant feeling in Sehun’s gut.  


“Oh, it was” Yixing mumbled, withdrawing his arms to press the no longer needed book against his chest. “I’ll go return it, then”  


Nodding without speaking, Sehun proceeded to pick his food while ignoring the questioning, suggestive glances sent by his roommate who had been a quiet spectator throughout the short-lived conversation. Under the table, he was getting kicked teasingly by Chanyeol - a coursemate who was almost as annoying as Jongin when it came to certain matters - but blocked it all out in a surprisingly successful attempt to keep his cheeks from turning red.   


“Stop it” he muttered through his teeth, hoping that it didn’t reach the ears of Yixing who stayed grounded for a time longer than needed. The other was biting his lower lip nervously, looking as if there was something more to be said, and Sehun faced him again, with his gaze solely and in a way he hoped would not seem too impolite asking to be left alone. He felt a bit bad, it was true, but he didn’t want this stranger to have to witness him shoving a spoon down his friend’s throat.  


Finally seeming to understand the hint, Yixing quietly and with his eyes averted backed away only to pause after a second, reaching out his hand as if to once again poke Sehun’s shoulder but refraining. There was uncertainty in his voice when he retreated his arm and broke the unnecessarily awkward silence, but something else as well, the same ulterior determination that had caught Sehun’s ear that night in the library. 

  
“Oh, by the way” he began a bit shakily, still not meeting the gaze of Sehun who remained seated and uncomfortable next to his smirking friends, “I managed to get the other one by Camus for the next assignment. It’s the only copy as well”

  
Sehun zoomed out, recalling the list of reference literature while suddenly realizing that the other was in fact taking the same web-based course as he was. He wondered why - why someone other than his own masochistic self would choose to top his already suffocating studies with works on existential nihilism and absurdism, and why this seemingly dull and somewhat shy person in front of him was not leaving after having approached him awkwardly for the second time. Sure, Yixing’s timid demeanor could very well be a façade, a mask plastered on while in the presence of strangers, because his eyes were after all as bloodshot as Sehun’s and the way his malnourished fingers fiddled with the stained pages of some old book reminded Sehun of himself. Maybe they were alike, the two of them, but the thought of that being true or even remotely relevant was whisked away by Sehun who, despite not being socially handicapped to begin with would never approach a stranger if not utterly necessary.  


Snapping out of the deep, swirling thoughts that came too often, he was just about to ask Yixing what the hell he wanted but did barely have time to open his mouth before the other let out words blurted in what sounded like sudden desperation.

  
“I’ll be in the library if you need it!”

  
Staying speechless, Sehun watched as the other left quicker than a ray of light, book still pressed tightly against his chest just like before while he raced towards his own group of friends. He could see him bump into that annoyingly beautiful kid Luhan and cling to his arm, suddenly smiling and laughing when the other whispered something too close to his ear, and Sehun forced himself to look away, for some reason disgusted by the view. Turning his head away in order to block out the sight of people acting happy, he was not so surprisingly met by Jongin’s amused face.  


“New friend?” his roommate asked, one eyebrow raised and with that insufferable smirk plastered on. “If I knew that a bit of staring is all it takes then I’d stare at people as much as you do”

  
Snorting in response, Sehun shut his lunchbox with the loudest click he could manage, suddenly deprived of his already non-existent appetite and swallowing the urge to hit someone, preferably Jongin.

  
“Did he look like my friend?”

  
“He seems nice, though” Chanyeol added in, his mouth stuffed with dry food but swallowing painfully before continuing into the next sentence. “You could give him a chance, you know. Living in another country with no native friends must be quite hard for him”

  
Sehun glared, aware of that his mood had dropped drastically within the last few minutes but nonetheless doing nothing to hide his uncalled-for discontent. While he was not really mad at Yixing for approaching him, he just wished that he would have done so elsewhere so that Jongin and Chanyeol had not been given an excuse to blabber on about it.

  
“How do you even know if he wants to be friends with me?” he muttered, already able to predict the impending topic of _Sehun-needs-to-get-out more_ , before Jongin chuckled and grabbed his friend’s bag so that there would be no sudden escape.

  
“Oh, he does” The terrible smirk was still on his lips, even when he rolled his eyes at Sehun who shook his head while trying to retrieve his bag in order to leave. “Oh come on, Sehun, it’s obvious. He was practically begging you to go with him”

  
“Maybe” Sehun responded almost immediately, not willing to give in to the strange, tickling feeling brought into being by those last words. An image of the dimpled stranger whose number was for some reason in list contact list appeared in his mind, but he was quick to whisk it away, thinking that it must just be his lack of sleep brainwashing him into playing Yixing’s shaky voice on repeat. “ _Maybe_ , but who said _I_ want to? I have enough friends already”

  
Jongin dropped his amused grin and, with the sound of Chanyeol scoffing in the background, did his signature move of snapping Sehun on the nose. Ignoring his friend’s whiny profanities, he widened is eyes in an attempt to look serious and intimidating while saying just the thing he always said in conversations like these.

  
“No you don't, you suffering idiot. Why do you hate people so much, Sehun?”

  
There was a bit of truth to Jongin’s response, yet not, because even though the dark circles beneath Sehun’s eyes were bigger than his circle of friends, he didn't mind. One close friend and a few good ones was just enough for the boy who preferred obscure literature over flesh and bones, for he could no matter how hard he tried find any point in fraternizing just for the sake of it. It was not that people sickened or even bored him - he just didn't care much. Little did it matter that he, a mere human among countless ever-changing universes, chose to live his purposeless life outside the norms created by a corrupted society, and that was what he used as an excuse to remain emotionally detached and with dissociative tendencies.

  
“I don't hate people, I'm just not interested” he mumbled in response, not really upset with his friend for caring but still unnecessarily annoyed by the neverending attempts to “save him from himself”. Sehun liked his suffering and emotional confinement - he enjoyed the feeling of numbing chains constructed in his own pessimistic mind.

  
For the moment leaving the case which had already long ago proven itself to be hopeless, Jongin frowned at his friend’s incurable stubbornness and let go of the bag, watching Sehun snatch it away and stand up. The latter gathered his things, frowning at the realization that his mood would now remain bad throughout the day, however not bothering enough to do something about it. He would walk away from the prospect of making friends with some dimpled stranger, just like he due to his imagined indifference towards sex and relationships liked to deny Jongin the joy of finding him someone to sleep with. It was like it had always been, how it would always be.

  
“Sometimes you're too dumb for your own good” Jongin sighed as his friend left, but Sehun didn't care. He never did.

 

 

 

It is easy to in a moment of heat claim that you know yourself entirely, but sometimes, even the most well-proven aspects of “you” can turn out to be false or at the very least ambiguous. You might one second tell yourself that there is something you would never do no matter how much you need to, and then the other second seriously doubt the accuracy of that assessment.

  
That was the problem  which Sehun found himself faced with while standing in the library later that day, already forgetting what had caused him to feel so upset earlier. Sure, he knew _what_ it had been, but he could not understand _why_ , why the undefinable feeling of meeting Yixing for the second time had grown into an irritation greater than he was used to.

  
Now looking at the familiar back seated next to the desk he had long ago claimed as his own, he swallowed his own saliva, silently reciting his sparse list of options. He needed that book. Unless he wanted to fail the course for inadequate use of sources, he needed to tap that person’s shoulder and ask him for it. It was simple, something anyone should be able to do, but Sehun was not like anyone. He didn’t know why the idea of approaching Yixing like Yixing had approached him bothered him so much, but it did. Maybe it was some kind of hidden pride keeping him from performing such a simple task, a kind of ridiculous pride born from being constantly told to socialize more, or maybe it was something else, hidden even deeper within him - he didn’t know, just like he didn’t care.

  
For one last, desperate moment trying to reconsider his decision of applying for that useless, web-based course, he came to an eventual conclusion which was nonetheless the same as expected. He had to collect that book sooner or later, at least for a short while just in order to copy the required pages, because he was not going to give into some newborn, inexplicable fear and quit the course that was supposed to act as some kind of escape from his mindless, everyday life. Talking to this stranger would not cause any great change to the universe and it would in a hundred years not matter at all what words had been spoken, which was why Sehun now gathered his courage and stepped forward.

  
“Yi… Yixing?” It felt wrong pronouncing the foreign name, but he had at least remembered it. The other’s greeting words had in fact managed to pop into his brain on the most inconvenient of occasions, even if he had tried hard to drown them in other thoughts everytime. “Excuse me?”

  
There was no response as Yixing only say there, deeply engrossed in the book which Sehun had come to claim, and the latter almost regretted his decision. It had been his own fault for not finding the book in time but while it was rude to ask for it now, it was also too late to back away. Continuing his struggle to catch the other’s attention, he moved a little closer and raised his voice, wondering if this unintented rejection was what people all around himself experienced on a daily basis.

  
“Yixing?”

  
Finally reacting, Yixing snapped his head up and turned it one too many times before successfully identifying the source of the voice calling his name. He looked taken aback, but Sehun swore that there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

  
“Sehun”

  
A bit flustered by nothing in particular, Sehun licked his chapped lips and searched for words, almost tongue-tied but nonetheless determined to remain composed. A notebook full of foreign letters and illegible scribbles lay on the desk before them, and he wondered if its content was of any value to the course or just mindless nonsense like his own, useless notes.

  
“Uhm, I was just” he began, angrily asking himself what had happened to him, why his fingers were shaking and clutching the inside of his pockets. “The book. Wondering when you’ll be done with it”

  
A bright smile found the face of Yixing who didn’t seem to notice the state of inner despair Sehun was in, the same smile that he had sported that day on which they first met. Quickly grabbing the book while ignoring the clutter of pens and paper falling down to the floor as he did, he vividly reached out his both arms in a way that looked too cheerful to Sehun and held the piece of literature in front of him.

  
“You can have it” he chirped, still smiling widely, but with a sharp movement retreating his hands before Sehun had time to grab the book. “...unless you wanna share?”

  
Completely perplexed, Sehun just stood there, face blank but eyes fluttering. Notes and pens lay dropped to the floor around their feet but Yixing didn’t seem to care, and it somehow fascinated Sehun, the way this person felt different than anyone he had ever met. Staring a few more seconds in disbelief, he felt the nervosity from before fade surprisingly when the other’s smile suddenly turned into a smirk.

  
Yixing was still looking at him with the same expression but in his eyes was that other look again, the cryptic one which seemed to hide something devious, and Sehun saw now what it was. While he could have been mistaken and didn’t care yet whether he was or not, he saw it - it was dare. In Yixing’s seemingly innocent eyes, there was playful mischief, and while Sehun didn’t take it as a direct challenge, there was no denying that it had him more excited than he had been for years.

  
Inhaling deeply, he took a small step forward and watched the other flinch ever so slightly. There was a kind of amusement in observing the mix of uncertainty and confidence in Yixing’s behaviour, and it triggered Sehun who could not help but see it as some anthropological phenomenon worth studying, at least for a while. He who had always longed for some great truth despite having long ago denied the idea of there being certainty in the universe, found himself temporarily unable to withstand the other’s gaze, and that was why he eventually gave in to the strange feeling disguised in his chest as indifference.

  
“Okay, we’ll share. But don’t talk. I don’t like talking”

  
Pulling out the chair beside Yixing, he shut his mouth and snatched the book from the other’s hands, placing it between them on the desk. He hoped that there would be silence - the introverted part of him did, at least - but it would be a lie to say that he didn’t smile inwardly at the sound of the next, spoken words. 

  
“Okay” Yixing said quietly, still smiling brightly. Locking eyes with Sehun once last time before turning back to his studies, he sent him a fiery gaze and continued with a soft yet suggestive voice almost impossible to decipher. “We don’t have to talk”

 

 

 

This all happened again and again, and before Sehun knew it, he had become something like friends with a short-term exchange student called Yixing. It had happened fast, too fast for him to fully understand how or why it had happened, but it had been unavoidable. Yixing kept approaching him and he kept letting it happen, because if he was to be honest, it wasn’t as annoying as he had first thought it would be. It was also the easiest, least troublesome way to let things unfold in - exchanging books for the course they were both taking out of sheer interest, eventually deciding that it due to the obscure essence of that literature was more practical to just study together. Constantly battling over the only copy of some twentieth century essay would probably turn out quite bothersome in the long run, Yixing had argued, and Sehun agreed - partially, at least. The truth was closer to him ultimately realizing that gaining a new friend, although hesitantly and not on his own initiative, was preferable to having some stranger poke your shoulder every other day. It was, furthermore and if Sehun was to be honest again, not actually that bad to have someone to discuss pretentious yet stimulating matters with for once in his short life.  


If there was one thing that he had learned about Yixing in just a week of barely knowing him, it was that he was not at all as bland or modest as he had first appeared on that day in the cafeteria. Yixing was blunt, unafraid when it came to certain things, and even though his eyes were constantly tired - most likely due to the same aversion to sleep that Sehun suffered - he was lively on occasion, even impulsive.

  
He did not live by Sehun’s wish to not converse - he was, in fact, quite the talker. Not like Jongin, Chanyeol or any other person, no, but in his own peculiar way. Sehun had surprisingly not minded. He had not expected to make a new friend and while he had been neither the one to initiate it nor the one to keep it up, he welcomed it, even appreciated it. Yixing was bold in a way that he could not begin to explain and it somehow tickled his stomach, the idea of not being in charge of what would happen next. Life was unpredictable like that and it had always got Sehun moderately excited, even if excitement was not usually on his list of exhibited emotions. Sufficient or even accurate display of emotions was not something which he was generally good at, and Jongin did when bored or frustrated like to make it an, according to himself, fun game of unprofessionally diagnosing his friend with depersonalization disorder or some other kind of brain-related disease with detachment and reduced affect display as visible symptoms.

  
“ _Studies also reported a “dissociation between reported experience of emotion and its display”, supporting the suggestion made elsewhere that-”_

  
“ _Jongin, stop it, I’m not schizophrenic!”_

  
No, meeting Yixing had not been anything like pure, hidden excitement at first. It was more like some kind of unfamiliar stimulation, a kind of secretly longed for disruption to the endless circle of habit and routine that was life. Sehun had, moreover, early on been forced to admit that they shared a lot of interests, intellectual ones as well as practical.

  
Late night, non-stop studying at the library had after only a few days turned into inhaling tobacco in non-smoking areas, because even if the snow now lay thick and despite Yixing’s incessant whining over the coldness of winter, it was nearly impossible for the newly arrived exchange student to go thirty minutes without adding to his future cancer. “The smoke could easily get mistaken for breath” was what he had argued when Sehun had kindly suggested that they would leave campus for just a while in order to not get scolded by the janitor, and the naive confidence in that statement had been too fascinating for Sehun to do anything but smile in response. The sight of Yixing’s pink, puffy cheeks everytime he with a slight pout let his lips encircle the slowly burning cigarette was, furthermore, too mesmerizing to not receive full attention even for the boy who had never really enjoyed sweet things.

  
It had not been even two weeks since they met when Yixing dragged Sehun out of the library and brought him home. Startled by the small, tugging hands and still in a state of reverie, the daydreaming boy barely even had time to gather his things before Yixing pulled him outside and guided him with their arms forcefully linked together.

  
“The chairs here are too hard and I don’t wanna freeze to death everytime I have to smoke!” were the words blurted in complaint when Sehun half-heartedly demanded an explanation as to why they were leaving so suddenly, and the latter was in no position to protest at this point. It was not that there was any valid reason for him to want to avoid the other’s home, but it did naturally feel strange to after such a short time get invited into such a personal space. Yixing did, however, obviously feel more than fine about it, which was why the antisocial Sehun could only oblige and pray that the other lived alone and not in a collective with other students or, God forbid, Luhan. Sehun had never met the unreasonably beautiful exchange student but there was something about his sugary yet stern face that made him want to puke, especially when that face was close to Yixing’s. They always looked so happy, laughing and smiling together whenever Sehun saw them whispering things by their table in the cafeteria, and happy people had always sickened Sehun beyond measure.

  
Soon sitting in a blanket-covered couch while watching Yixing stand by the small, french balcony positioned on the opposite side, Sehun crossed his legs awkwardly and looked around. The apartment was nice, he had to admit - small yet spacious, empty yet not devoid of life. While it looked like it would belong to someone like Sehun, meaning that its stained, white walls showed signs of a very decadent person inhabiting it, it felt cosy, almost cosier than Sehun and Jongin’s. 

  
“How did you even manage to get this place?” he asked after a while, a bit unsettled by the rare fact that Yixing who was still smoking had stayed silent for almost ten minutes. “Even I have to share with someone and I’ve lived in this godforsaken city for over twenty years”

  
Turning around before exhaling, Yixing did not seem to care about the cloud of smoke finding its way into the room and dispersing, with its colour and smell infusing the fabrics and wallpaper. Sehun frowned a bit, not by the smell of tobacco which he in fact loved, but because of the sight of Yixing quivering beneath what looked like at least three layers of blankets. It must have been nearly zero degrees outside, maybe even less seeing how the snow showed no signs of thawing, but the boy who always complained about the cold remained standing by the open door nonetheless, his third cigarette in a row now resting gently between stiff fingers.

  
“You speak as if you're my superior” Yixing replied, smiling with chattering teeth while struggling to light the venomous stick. There were no hard feelings in his voice, only humorous sarcasm with a hint of taunt, and it was something which Sehun had grown used to by now even though the period during which they had known each other was shorter than it took for a new episode of Jongin’s favourite drama to come out.

  
Fighting the urge to stick out his tongue, Sehun instead smiled at the other’s sassiness and stood up, making his way towards the balcony. The smell of cigarette smoke had not exactly helped sooth his own abstinence and though he had spent only twenty minutes in Yixing’s apartment so far, it already felt as if he was allowed to walk around freely. He wasn't sure just why - it probably had to do with Yixing’s easy-going attitude - but it felt as if he had already been there before.

  
“What if I am your superior?” he chuckled when he reached the balcony, reaching into his pocket for his own package of cigarettes. For a split second looking at Sehun as if he didn't understand the pointless joke, Yixing still gave him no time to start worrying about a potential misinterpretation before he rolled his eyes and snatched the lighter away.

  
“I did someone a favour” he mumbled while leaning in closer, with his mouth pressing his own burning cigarette against Sehun’s unlit one. “As an answer to your question”

  
Sehun raised an eyebrow, already used to Yixing’s lack of respect for personal space but yet not able to ignore the flush of warmth brought by it. While the other was not specifically _touchy_ in a way that Jongin or even Chanyeol was, he was always close, always warm despite his constant shivering - an unasked for, reversed oasis in this winterland.

  
“What does that even mean?” Sehun asked while sending the other a questioning glance, unsually curious about what had just been said regardless of the distraction going on in the form of Yixing’s shoulder touching his. There was silence for a few seconds and while Sehun didn't need to look at Yixing's face to know that the other was wondering how to explain, he still did. There was no smile now as Yixing kept his gaze averted, fixed in front of him yet not focusing on the already darkening view, and it somehow worried Sehun even if he didn't know why.

  
Finally bringing his gaze and mind back to reality, Yixing looked up at Sehun and smiled. Their faces were not far away from each other and it helped Sehun notice the small crease now visible between Yixing’s eyebrows, a crease that was not normally there. While Yixing’s lips formed his typical smile and although his eyes were as sparkly as Sehun had once imagined them in the cafeteria, that crease was there, indicating that the smile was maybe not as real as it had first appeared to be.

  
“It doesn't mean anything, really” he replied eventually with his voice unusually vacant, breaking eye-contact with Sehun who had started to feel a bit umcomfortable. “I was just lucky, I guess”

 

 

 

“What do we mean by saying that existence precedes essence, Yixing? We mean that man first of all exists, encounters himself, surges up in the world-”

  
“-and defines himself afterwards, Sehun. I know, but what if existence is just an illusion after all?”

  
“Cogito ergo sum - I _think_ , therefore I _am_ ”

  
Yixing blew raspberries straight into the microphone, causing Sehun to flinch and increase the distance between his ear and the phone. The crackling sound was terrible and while they had long ago - as in a week or so - concluded that there must be something wrong with either of their devices, they had not let it be in the way of their late night calls.

  
“Of all people, Sehun, I never thought that _you_ would sink so low as to take such dirty clichés into your mouth”

  
Sehun smirked in response even though he knew that the other could not see him. Yixing had as usual called him as soon as they got home and while Sehun had the first time it happened sighed and hoped that the conversation would end up brief, he had just a few calls and visits to Yixing’s apartment later let himself get lost in the words and oddly satisfying voice emerging from the speaker.

  
“You don’t know me, Yixing” he said smilingly, scribbling abstract figures on the cover of his notebook and unaware of the fact that Jongin was observing him from across their kitchen table. His roommate had sat there quietly for the entire call, leisurely refilling his friend’s repeatedly emptied mug with coffee, but Sehun had been too deep in discussions about the metaphysical to notice.

  
There was a sigh on the other line and Sehun frowned a bit, wondering if his words had caused the dimple to disappear. Even though the exchange student’s vocabulary was surprisingly good seeing as he had only been there a few weeks, there were sadly but unavoidably moments of misinterpretation in which words and tones got lost in translation. Yixing did, however, seem to have some way of knowing whenever he had missed some part of Sehun’s incurable sarcasm, and that was, rather than Sehun’s poor attempts to explain, what usually saved most of their conversations.

  
“I wish I did” he now responded, however, voice not as bright or excited as before. There was some remote sadness hiding in between those somberly spoken words and Sehun wondered why, because he had in less than a month given more of his time to Yixing than he had even given his roommate, the person whom he had known for almost his whole life. He thought about it - how this strange exchange student had stepped into his life, demanding his attention, and how he had himself not minded it. Yixing was despite their shared interests the complete opposite of what Sehun could usually stand, but he was also alluring in a way, for he was different. More than endurable.

  
A few minutes but many spoken words later, Sehun hung up, smiling for reasons he was not aware of yet. They had told each to have a good night’s sleep even though they had at this point agreed that sleep was for the weak, but Sehun did as usual have no plans on going to bed just yet. Locking his phone and putting it on the table before him, he did not even have time to notice his friend staring at him before a message popped up.

  
“ _my place at 6 tomorrow or i’ll burn the book you left here_ ”

  
He chuckled a bit at the other’s outspokenness while quickly typing a response, telling Yixing that there would be no need for book burning for a while. He would be there tomorrow, just like he had been there the night before, and he actually looked forward to it. Most of their nights had been spent quietly in the library, intensely discussing depressing topics in Yixing’s living room, or fighting the coldness of winter with blankets and cigarettes on Yixing’s roof, and it was all surprisingly enough within Sehun’s very limited comfort zone. He didn’t know yet if it was the experience of for once letting someone into his life that suddenly had him feel so refreshed and relaxed, or if it was the actual person with whom he was spending time, but it didn’t matter as he had not even contemplated on it.

  
Still smiling, he grabbed the notes he was supposed to go over before the next day’s lectures and spread them out in front of him, finally ready to venture into studying. While he had not been completely neglecting his duties as a student, it would have been a lie to say that spending time with Yixing had not had a slightly negative influence on courses other than the one they shared. Now however enjoying the silence which he usually treasured so much, he readied himself to get lost in the first page of words only to find that silence broken by his roommate’s amused voice.

  
“I told you” Jongin said, now looking at his phone instead of Sehun who stared, a bit taken aback by his friend’s sudden words.

  
“What?”

  
“That you had a new friend”

  
A light shade of red immediately found Sehun’s cheeks as he lowered his head, for some reason embarrassed to admit that he had in the end followed Jongin’s repeated demands to socialize more. He had only weeks ago told the other that there was no need for more friends, that his thirst for human interaction was not great enough to be worth the trouble, but he had nonetheless acted against his own beliefs and given in to Yixing’s persistent advances.

  
“Shut up” he muttered, not willing to give his friend the pleasure of saying “I told you so” but still failing to come up with any suitable response. “He’s nice, okay?”

  
Jongin rolled his eyes and looked at Sehun who in a futile attempt to shut the other out was pretending to read the notes. Emptying the last of the coffee pot’s almost cold contents into his own mug, he snickered and leaned over the table just to poke his friend's chest.

  
“That’s what Chanyeol and I said but you weren’t listening then”

  
“Fuck you” Jongin raised an eyebrow at Sehun’s muttered profanities. “Things change”

  
“What changed?”

  
There was silence as Sehun looked up and couldn’t come up with any answer to that question, because he did not know himself why he had been so okay with becoming friends with some newly arrived exchange student. It was true that they got along well, not only because of their shared interests but also because of Yixing’s ability to know exactly when Sehun _really_ didn’t want to talk. That was, however, not the point. What mattered was that Sehun had changed his ways, that he had for the last few weeks actually chosen to every other night force his way through thick layers of snow in order to get to someone else’s apartment while also locking arms with that person. While he had not gotten over his serious aversion to human contact, physical as well as verbal, he had let Yixing be an exception, the only exception. While the two of them never communicated before the end of both of their last lectures, for Yixing had his own friends and Sehun didn’t really mind, they did not even have to message each other to decide that the afternoon would be spent together. The way they worked together was all a mystery to not only Jongin but to Sehun as well, which was why the latter after stuttering voiceless words now only turned to his notes again and ignored the question.

  
“I was right all along” Jongin said with a smirk, no longer caring to force any words out of his blushing friend, and Sehun chose to ignore that last statement as well. He did not know what it meant but he refused to ask, because even though he wasn’t completely sure whether he wanted to or not, he would in the end probably regret finding out.

 

 

 

The night had been long and the hours of sleep had been few as usual, despite the fact that yesterday had been friday and that there were no early lectures to rush to the morning after. Tired but not in the mood for snoozing, Sehun had gotten up early, climbing over the snoring Jongin in order to spend the morning smoking while doing nothing else at all. He always slept closest to the wall even though his roommate usually went to bed before him, because no matter how hard it was to believe, there had been a time in which Sehun had been the one to fall asleep early. Claiming that spot had happened a long time ago when they were still kids and pestered their parents for sleepovers, and they had since then not cared to switch. While Jongin was not the creature of habit that Sehun was, he was a heavy sleeper and did furthermore not care about getting accidently woken up in the middle of the night, or rather, early morning.

  
Yixing had funnily enough not been on Sehun’s mind at all after he woke up, because even though Jongin’s roommate thought about him a lot these days, he still had his lengthy moments of abstract yet fluid daydreams. Not until a drowsy Jongin had hours later asked him what he would be doing that night had he thought about it, with a sudden feeling of slight delight remembering where he was supposed to be at six, and it had marked the beginning of hours of mindless waiting.

  
Maybe the lack of sleep and fruitful activity was why Sehun while dragging his feet towards Yixing’s apartment didn’t even wonder why the other had asked him to come. Not that it was rare for Yixing to do that - on the contrary, actually - but he usually accompanied Sehun on the way there seeing as they had a habit of meeting in the library first. It did not matter either, because they had so far spent most of their time together spread out in Yixing’s couch discussing complex matters or huddled up at the roof or by the balcony, quietly smoking while occasionally dropping pretentious oneliners about the endlessness of universe or the emptiness of mankind. This night would probably make no exception, and that was one of the reasons why Sehun did not even care to message Yixing to tell him that he was on his way.

  
Eventually entering the apartment without knocking, for Yixing had early on been stubborn when ordering Sehun to from that moment on always walk right in, the latter now took off his shoes and cursed himself for using sneakers during winter. He had obeyed the other’s order without protesting and even though it had felt wrong at first to just barge in, he had quickly adapted to the thought of Yixing’s home being a place to which he could go whenever he felt like it. It was true that he had still not went there without being specifically asked to, because he did despite enjoying Yixing’s company and all still not care enough to initiate anything on his own, but it felt nice knowing that he could. The only person Sehun had ever been able to go to in the middle of the night or during other inconvenient times without feeling bad was Jongin, so the thought of there now being someone else as well had him feel unusually calm, almost happy.

  
In the middle of removing his jacket and just ready to call out Yixing’s name in order to notify him of his arrival, Sehun paused for a second when he noticed an extra pair of shoes laying carelessly spread out before him on the floor. They were large, too large compared to the ones Yixing used, and they did with their unfamiliar appearance furthermore not match the exchange student’s usual style at all. Frowning in sudden disappointment at the thought of this night turning out different than expected, Sehun wondered for whom he would have to fake a smile but did not have time to go through the list of Yixing’s friend when strange noises reached his ear.

  
Trying not to breath in order to hear it more clearly, he froze and felt his body grow cold at the realization. He knew those sounds. He had heard them before, had been the reason for them and the source of them, although luckily not at this particular place. He knew those sounds even if they sounded very different to what he was used to, and while he should have turned around at that moment of realization, he didn’t. While he should have left quietly and pretended that he had simply not gone there despite having promised, he still and for some reason he could not explain let his feet steer him towards the room in which he had until this point planned to spend his evening.

  
With hands perspiring and feet still stiff from twenty minutes of walking through snow, Sehun ignored the voice in the back of his head begging him to stop right there and kept walking, further and further in. He did by the time he reached the now familiar living room feel slightly dizzy, because even if the sight that met him was given the unpleasant noises something expected, it was not something which he had wanted to witness at all. Staying put a few seconds too many while in shock watching was what going on right in front of him, he did for a moment not care about the awkwardness that would surely follow the words he was about to pronounce with a voice more disgusted than ever.

  
“Yixing, _what the fuck?_ ”


	3. Chapter 3

Panting. Skin hitting skin. Moans of pain but undeniable pleasure.

 

If one was to ask Sehun afterwards, he would for a short moment of denial have claimed that he had not believed his eyes the moment he stepped into the living room to find Yixing on his back, bent over the couch armrest in an unimaginable position. The way Yixing lay there with his legs spread out in two different directions, looking almost as if they were broken, with his entrance stretched and invaded deeply by some man looking way over thirty, was appalling. The way his face was contorted into a mix between suffering and satisfaction, his mouth hanging open and drooling while letting out obscene noises familiar to Sehun only through drunken nights and indecent videos, was even more so.

 

It was all shocking, something Sehun had not in in any way expected to be met with that evening, but the thing he experienced at the moment he spotted Yixing all bare with his private part blatantly visible and leaking seed onto his bruised stomach was something else than surprise. Instead of gasping, he somehow felt let down, unreasonably upset about finding out that his plans for the night had been cancelled, and the unfamiliarity of those feelings did nothing to soothe them. Never in the short period during which they had known each other had he realized just how much he enjoyed spending time with Yixing, just the two of them in this apartment, gulping tea and smoking while discussing things he had never been able to talk about with someone else before. It all dawned upon him now when he saw that other man’s rough hands go from pressing firmly against the slim neck before him to eagerly find their down Yixing’s marred torso, letting sharp fingernails dig into equally sharp hips. Frozen while in a temporary state of trance, Sehun finally realized that he had made a friend, but the foreign feeling festering behind his ribs when he heard the result of shameless treatment spill from Yixing’s lips in the form of frantic, drawn-out moans was nothing like familiar. Sehun’s own reaction scared him as much as the sight of Yixing’s naked body unsettled him, but it would have been a lie to say that something in his pants didn’t twitch ever so slightly - the fact added even more to his discomfort.

 

Standing there quietly, watching his newfound friend lay there shivering with eyes closed like an erotic feast on display, he found himself unable to think or even move. That man was ruthlessly devouring Yixing right in front of him, consuming him raw like a freshly caught rainbow trout, and it did somewhere in some unexplored part of Sehun’s chest give birth to an unexplainable annoyance never before experience. He found himself angry, disappointed for some reason he could not explain, but also scared and uncomfortable. Not yet did he have time or brain capacity to ponder over the fact that he had not once given Yixing’s hitherto unidentified sexuality a thought, for he was too busy getting lost in the sound of Yixing’s back cracking dangerously when the man added a few final thrusts, spilling his dirty seed inside the small boy whose cheeks were wet by sinfully blissful tears.

 

Not until white painted Yixing’s scratched stomach, running over his chest and neck before dripping down onto the floor, did Sehun snap out of his shocked trance. Finally able to tear his eyes from the disturbing yet hypnotizing sight of Yixing’s member twitching in post-orgasm, he tried to block out the carnal sounds escaping his friend’s lips when the man pulled out and let go of his legs, mercilessly shoving the thin limbs aside. Yixing’s moans were animalistic yet not, for his soft, high-pitched voice reminded Sehun of a needy puppy rather than a libidinous beast, but that did nothing to alleviate the painful feeling brought by them.

 

Trying to digest what was going on, what he had just witnessed, Sehun wondered for a moment what would happen when Yixing opened his eyes to notice the spectator who had in all truth been invited. He was not sure whether to consider it a miracle or not that he was yet to be seen - the man had not cared to turn around after falling to his back in what looked like pure exhaustion - but he found no point in imagining alternative outcomes of this situation. It was unquestionable that he should have left as soon as those lecherous sounds reached his ears, but since there was no way to escape the ruthlessness of causality and fate, all Sehun could do was to accept the fact that the circumstances were set and that embarrassment was unevitable. Now letting his shaky limbs move ever so slightly, he fixed his gaze on the dimpled face before him - the face he had unconsciously been admiring everyday for the past few weeks - and forced his dry lips to move.

 

“Yixing, _what the fuck?_ ”

 

“Wha- _Sehun?_ ”

 

What instantly followed was nothing but an epitome of chaos, an uttermost pandemonium that would have made even the most dedicated Eris worshipper proud. Falling backwards in a hurried attempt to sit up, Yixing hit his head against the hard, wooden floor and cried out loudly, instinctively and while temporarily blinded crawling towards the couch, reaching for anything to cover his stained body with. A shiver went through Sehun’s body but while his legs wanted nothing less than to run towards the one whose eyes had never held such panic, all the until now silent spectator could do was watch. Remaining frozen in place, Sehun competely ignored the older man who after jolting violently in surprise rushed out of the room while hissing nasty, unspeakable profanities, because all he could focus on in that moment was Yixing.

 

“It’s six” he finally said while meeting the other’s anxious gaze, his voice as cold and solid as concrete on a grey winter’s day. While a part of him told him that he had no business being there, that it had been his obligation to leave quietly, he could not help but succumb to the humiliation of having come only to encounter this. Yixing had in all truth invited him over, had even jokingly threatened to burn his books if he didn’t come, so Sehun could not understand. After a lifetime of being the smart kid, the one who had always been able to draw conclusions from even the most cryptic, farfetched facts, he suddenly found himself clueless as to why he had to watch his new friend crouch on the floor, naked and covered with cum.

 

With the words “ _fucking foreign kids, I’m gonna fucking strangle those little cumsluts-_ ” emerging from the bathroom, Yixing pressed the finally obtained pillow against his bare crotch while letting his free hand rub against his bruised temple. It took him a moment too long to register the bitter words that had left Sehun’s mouth, but when he did, his still watery eyes immediately turned to the clock hanging tilted on the wall.

 

“Oh, _oh_ ” His voice was frantic when he turned back to Sehun who stayed grounded, watching as realization hit the floored boy harder than the boy had hit the floor. “Shit, Sehun, I’m sorry. I’m so, _so_ sorry, I forgot-”

 

“No, I’m sorry,” Sehun interrupted, his body still frozen despite wanting nothing else but to leave, “to interrupt”

 

There was silence for the shortest of moments but also painful eyecontact, and the coldness of Sehun’s voice surprised not only Yixing but Sehun himself as well. He didn’t recognize the feeling - the way his limbs were numb and cold and the way his head felt light, causing a nausea unrelated to sickness - and neither was he familiar with the slight anger simmering in his chest. The smell of rough sex lingered in the air like flies in a slaughterhouse, and while Sehun had to pretend to not notice that his pants had seemed to shrink at least one size since entering the apartment, the bare state of Yixing’s body did nothing to ease the revulsion so intense that it finally had him turn on his heels and leave.

 

“ _Sehun, wait-_ ”

 

 

 

 

The weekend passed by quietly and Sehun eventually calmed down. A few rounds of sinful activity in the shower had been all that was needed for him to at least temporarily forget the sight of Yixing stretched by some stranger, but the awkwardness of having walked in on such a private moment still infested his brain like some venomous parasite. While the unjustified anger and disappointment had since long disappeared when he three days later arrived at campus - Yixing had simply lost track of time that night, after all - another strange feeling soon suppressed now stirred in his stomach where he stood in the almost empty cafeteria, waiting in line to pay for his morning coffee.

 

The few missed calls had been ignored at first, but Sehun had after just a day seen no reason to horde any bad feelings. The accidentally revealed fact that Yixing enjoyed dick did, despite the shock value, not surprise Sehun that much when he actually came to think about it, and it did furthermore not matter at all. Yixing’s sexual oriention was none of Sehun’s business and while it for still hidden reasons unsettled him a bit to know that they happened to share the same one - for all he knew, at least - he decided to regard it as an unimportant matter. He would not ask Yixing about it, would even attempt to leave the whole incident unmentioned in case they met. While he had messaged the other the night after, apologizing for not picking up his phone, Yixing had not called again - they had simply just sent each other silly smileys devoid of any real meaning, wishing each other a good night’s sleep despite knowing that they would both lay awake for hours.

 

Now sighing deeply, Sehun clutched the paper mug containing his already prepared coffee and wondered why on earth the person in front of him had considered it a good idea to bring only coins. It was not that he was in a hurry or anything, because an unexpected free period had disrupted his attempts to keep his mind busy all day, but he would much rather consume his sleep replacement between the comforting walls of his sacred sanctuary - the library - than in the dusky cafeteria which he found so utterly boring. While he would usually spend these occasional free hours listening to Jongin’s mindless drivel, there was now not much to do but study and daydream - his roommate had stayed at home that morning, claiming that he was sick but in fact just being too tired to care about tedious lectures, and that meant that Sehun would spend the rest of the day alone. It was true that he still had Chanyeol and his other coursemates, but never had he considered their company stimulating enough to actively seek. There was in this point of Sehun’s life only one person whom he would sincerely contemplate on killing time with, but that particular person was reserved for late afternoons and Sehun was furthermore not sure what would happen once they met again. While he had, after regaining his sense of reason and moral wellbeing, realized that he didn’t want to stop spending time with Yixing just because of some unfortunate event, he could not speak for the other. Perhaps Yixing would be too embarrassed, maybe even too upset with Sehun to seek him out again, but the latter did barely even have time to start worrying about the future before he felt an all too familiar hand poke his back.

 

He was still first in line when he turned around, because the tired student in front of him had managed to drop all coins and was now frantically searching for them on the floor, but Sehun had suddenly forgotten all about coffee. It was early, only forenoon, which was why when he was met with the smaller person seeking his attention, the one whom he had watched orgasm only days ago, found himself genuinely surprised and, to be honest, quite flustered.

 

Yixing was smiling weakly when Sehun met his gaze, still clutching his unpaid mug of coffee, but the distance between the two was greater than usual. While Sehun had still not overcome his what Jongin liked to call fear of physical contact, he had quickly grown used to, even come to appreciate, the way Yixing always pressed himself against his side whenever they met. It was a nice thing, for once having someone actually enjoy not only your social company but your physical as well, even if Sehun seldom returned the touch and in spite of his general disinterest in human interraction.

 

“I’m sorry” Yixing spoke quietly before Sehun managed to open his mouth, his head lowered but eyes still looking up, anxious. “About what happened”

 

After freezing for a short moment when inappropriate images from that night automatically popped into his head, Sehun turned around awkwardly, breaking eyecontact while pretending to scan the shelves stuffed with overprized take-away food. He had planned to avoid this conversation entirely even if he had deep down already deemed it unavoidable, but the distressed look in Yixing’s eyes had him unable to completely whisk away the seemingly sincere apology.

 

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have just walked right in” he said with his back turned, completely honest but yet unable to look into the wide yet droopy eyes he had last seen drenched in panic. It was true - there had been no reason, no excuse for him to linger that long after realizing that the sounds were those of people fucking, but the shakiness of Yixing’s voice now hinted at shame rather than accusation.

 

“No, no, it’s my fault. I’ve asked you to do that, Sehun”

 

There was no response as Sehun kept looking mindlessly at the shelves, praying for the person in front of him to finish paying so that he would have a reason to break the topic. He didn’t know what to say to Yixing, didn’t know how to ease the tension caused mainly by himself. While he frantically searched his mind for some silly, pretentious joke related to the irrelevance of everything, he ironically enough found his attempts insignificant as Yixing suddenly grabbed his arm and spoke, forcing him to turn back around.

 

“It wasn’t... anything, you know...” he almost stuttered, now closer in distance and holding onto Sehun, although avoiding the questioning glance sent by the latter. “We’re not... you know...”

 

Sehun kept looking, his skin for almost burning where it met the other’s, but he didn’t retreat. Yixing was trembling, his apparent nervousness not at all matching with the intriguingly eccentric, almost childlish aura he usually shone with, and it did for some reason have Sehun’s heart ache in sympathy and guilt. If he had only left or at least knocked that night, if he had only acted out the politeness taught to him as a child, then Yixing would not have had to face him like this.

 

“What?” he asked softly when Yixing kept trembling, opening and closing his mouth and obviously at loss for words to explain with. While Sehun on one hand wanted to shake the other and tell him that it was okay, that there was no need for explanations seeing as he himself had been the one at fault, he was on the other hand too embarrassed to say anything. Instead only patting Yixing’s arm gently yet awkwardly, as lightly as possible breaking the other’s clutch on him, he missed the fact that it was finally his turn to pay and that people were now passing him in line.

 

“He’s not... He's not my boyfriend or anything. He was just... helping out” Yixing eventually responded when their touch was broken, words mumbled and pronounced fast and inarticulately as if he didn’t want anyone to catch them, and Sehun frowned. From the corner of his eye, the latter could make out that a grim-looking woman - one whom he recognized as one of the university’s professors - was shamelessly watching them with a disapproving scowl, and he sent her an evil glance. He suddenly felt annoyed - annoyed about having people monitor their conversation even though there had been no explicit referring to the incident in question, but also annoyed about the way he himself could not find a suiting way to deal with this situation. While he wasn’t completely sure what Yixing meant by “helping out”, or why he had felt the need to convince Sehun that there wasn’t anything _more_ between him and that man, Sehun tried to think that he knew the other’s struggle. Yixing liked men - that much was clear - and maybe that was the root of the anxiousness now present in his eyes, the same anxiousness that sometimes hid behind the thick ribs of Sehun’s calloused chest whenever he had to plaster on some mask deemed fit for society. It was true that he didn’t know Yixing entirely and thus had no way of knowing what was going on inside that head of his, but he could not help but see his own personal frustration reflected in the other’s face -  the frustration of having to explain why he followed some guy home after a party, having to lie and tell everyone that all they did was play videogames and sleep, or having to nod along to some sexist remark about a girl’s body in order to not seem suspicious, in order to seem _normal_.

 

It was already too late for Yixing to hide his orientation from Sehun, for how could he whitewash the act of spreading his legs wide for what was in all honesty the organ of a man? Perhaps all the exchange student could do was to convince the person whom he yet didn’t know shared the same orientation as him was that he at least wasn’t in a same-sex relationship with some older man, and the thought had Sehun furrow his eyebrows in not only sympathy but in confusion of his own emotional response as well. Not once had it struck him that the man who took Yixing that night might actually have been someone special, that Yixing maybe had a preference for agegaps, which was why the sudden denial took him by surprise. He had not asked about it but Yixing had for some reason felt the need to tell him, and Sehun could not help but feel relieved, almost happy. While he told himself that he wouldn’t have cared about the other’s choice of partner, that another person’s private life was none of his business, he found that some part of him had for one short second screamed in relief and joy at the sentence pronounced in fear of the eventual response.

 

Still staring at the one in front of him, the one who would not tear his gaze from his own restless hands, Sehun suddenly felt comfortable enough to let out a smile small enough to not seem exaggerated but wide enough to come across as genuine. While he had earlier that morning shuddered at the mere thought of a conversation like this, he now felt light, thinking that things might end up well after all. He had no idea why the prospects of losing his newfound friend had scared him so much, seeing as he had never before cared to actively seek friendship, but the expected discomfort brought by this sudden attachment got drowned in the dizzy feeling of having Yixing in front of him again, now fully dressed.

 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain” he said, simply and smiling, after what seemed like silent minutes of getting bumped into by tired students and annoyed teachers who wanted to pay for their coffee. Looking up, Yixing met his gaze with eyes wide and mouth agape, as if he had prepared his mind for some entirely different response, and Sehun forced himself to not imagine what cruel things the other might have expected.

 

Standing there quietly for a few awkward seconds, the realization that he was yet to pay flashed through Sehun’s mind but disappeared as soon he caught sight of something in Yixing’s eyes, the same timidity and uncertainty he had seen there when they were yet to become friends. There was doubt, undeniably, and a fair amount of what looked like fear - it was as if Yixing did not believe Sehun’s sincerity, as if he was still expecting harsh words to hit his face like a sharp wave, words telling him that he was a freak and a sexual abomination. The way he was looking at Sehun with his head still slightly lowered, his impossibly dark eyes peeking through thick eyelashes and a messy fringe, had Sehun in a heated moment want to grab his face and tell him that every bad thought he was having was wrong. Sehun did, however, remain as destructively composed as usual. While the stoic expression he constantly wore was in most cases the result of simple indifference, the stiff but sincere smile now adorning his face was painted with more emotions than he had showed or felt in years, and the painful inability to recognize or categorize those feelings or even their kind had Sehun in a state of inner frustration.

 

Unconsciously and unintentionally taking a step forward in order to gaze deeper into Yixing’s worried eyes - he wanted to find something in there, something to explain this undefined sensation - Sehun watched the sorrowful face in front of him shift into the weakest of smiles and wondered if the other’s suddenly deep breath was actually a gasp. He kept looking, not aware of that he while leaning forward had placed his hand on Yixing’s shoulder, that he had let it travel to the other’s chin in order to lift his face up and see it more clearly. He kept looking, and looking, getting lost in questions and exponentially expanding thoughts.

 

Sehun’s religious parents had since old times liked to tell their son stories about how eyes are the windows to one’s soul. While Sehun had never believed in such a things as an autonomously existing consciousness, a _self_ , an independent entity able to roam freely or even find peace while detached from the pile of flesh that was the human body, he now kept searching Yixing’s eyes as if he had not long ago denied the existence of absolute truth. Maybe it was his usual lack of sleep that had him act in a way that would frighten any sane being, maybe he had finally gone mad  - it didn’t really matter, because Yixing gave him no reason to stop staring. Only standing there amidst tired students rushing to buy coffee between lectures they were already late for, the other let his smile grow wider and less insecure when Sehun’s hand slid to his neck and remained there. What the smiling boy did not know, however, was that Sehun’s attention had escaped elsewhere, somewhere far from physical reality. Maybe truth wasn’t what Sehun was looking for, after all. Maybe it was just a feeling that he seeked, a hint, or _something_ to help soothe his insatiable thirst for things he would never find out - he didn’t know, just like he pretended to not care. He just kept looking, his own smile fading and eyebrows eventually furrowing when he realized that he would never find a reason to start believing in old tales of souls or utopian concepts. With a hand still on Yixing’s neck, unconsciously pulling the other closer, Sehun kept his eyes fixed but saw nothing. On Yixing’s shiny corneas, where it covered the dark tissue of his widely expanded pupils, Sehun saw nothing but his own reflection, dull and bleak while staring back in sarcastic resentment.

 

There was the shortest moment of complete chaos in his mind, a moment during which all thoughts and supressed emotions screamed in disharmony like a piece of free jazz played on reverse, and it did like the most fleeting migraine hit him hard only to dissolve and disappear a second after. There was silence. 

 

 _Jongin was right, I am crazy._ _It's Yixing’s_ _fault_.

 

Finally returning to reality, Sehun removed his frown and let his hand fall from Yixing’s neck, too upset with himself for once again falling into this destructive reverie of his to contemplate the fact that he had actually been standing there for minutes, silently staring at the shorter person in front of him while attracting questioning glances from all around the cafeteria. He sighed and tried to recall what had happened before he drifted off, now afraid that his suddenly abnormal behaviour could have caused Yixing to regret approaching him, but soon found his worries invalid as Yixing tugged at his shirt without speaking. On the other’s face was still a smile, weak but nothing like false, and his eyes resembling polished onyxes seemed more alive than they had looked only seconds ago when Sehun had gazed into them, searching. Maybe Yixing bore the same hidden madness as Sehun had been born with, maybe he just didn’t care about his friend being potentially insane. Either way, Sehun felt the same relief from before run back to him, although now for different reasons, and he responded to the dimple-adorned smile which he could not help but adore.

 

For some strange reason not feeling the awkwardness of the situation which was close to absurd, he smiled and watched as Yixing’s eyes averted only to fall back into eyecontact seconds later, wider and without their usual droopiness. Words were yet to be spoken when Yixing once again tugged at Sehun’s shirt like a small child demanding its parent’s love, but Sehun could by the way the other’s constantly pouting lips parted tentatively sense that something was about to be said, something important judging from the suddenly serious look on Yixing’s face.

 

Not caring or even noticing that people were watching them from all corners of the room and completely oblivious to the fact that the unpaid coffee in his hand had now grown cold, Sehun waited in anticipation as Yixing blinked a few times and licked his lips before once again parting them, looking straight into Sehun’s eyes while finally forming words.

 

“Sehun, do you-”

 

“ _There_ you are, Xing! I almost thought you had left me for that- Oh”

 

Snapping out of eyecontact and almost jumping, Sehun did for the longest moment want to kill someone, preferably the one whose arms were now around Yixing’s waist and preferably in a painful way. Neither he nor Yixing had seen Luhan come skipping towards them, completely oblivious to that his friend was in fact busy, and the sudden interruption had them both in a state of awkwardness. While Sehun had not expected Yixing’s now unfinished question to hold any indispensibly vital value, he could not help but feel uncontrollably frustrated and upset with the disgustingly beautiful exchange student who had ruined their conversation before it had even begun.

 

With wide eyes travelling between Sehun’s offended face and Yixing whom he had attacked in a violent back hug, Luhan cleared his throat and spoke with a quiet voice directed right at Yixing, his grasp on the other only slightly loosening.

 

“Are you, uhm” His breath hit the side of Yixing’s face, making the other’s messy fringe move ever so slightly, and the sight did for some reason unsettle Sehun who was completely tongue-tied. “Are you guys gonna… Or do you wanna..?”

 

Squirming a bit beneath Luhan’s touch, which looked strange to Sehun who had from afar watched the two exchange students cuddle publicly before, Yixing gently put his hands on his friend’s and removed them from his waist. Instead of responding, he turned to Sehun and sent him questioning yet worried glance, as if asking for permission to continue their conversation at another time. In his gaze was, however, also something else, something apologetic.

 

There was a silent moment in which Sehun tried to calm down, his sudden possessiveness luckily cooling when he by the look in Yixing’s eyes realized that the other was ready to reject Luhan and stay if asked. While that was what he really wanted, however, to keep Yixing from his annoying friend and have him finish the question, he did despite not knowing what their conversation would be about know that this was neither the time nor place to talk. Nodding slightly in defeat, he sent the other a most reluctant smile and leaned forward to stroke his arm as a goodbye gesture, for some reason feeling good about doing so in front of Luhan who to his great joy frowned and looked away.

 

With his eyes lingering on Sehun a bit too long as if trying to make out whether he was really allowed to leave, Yixing paused a bit by the touch, not used to Sehun being the one to initiate something, but instantly returned the smile before turning to his friend. With both hands grabbing Luhan’s arm without knowing what kind of fire it gave birth to in the confusing cluster of newborn emotions that was Sehun’s mind, he turned on his heel to leave.

 

“Let's go, Lulu” he chirped, causing a most disgustingly proud smirk to appear on Luhan’s arrogant face, but paused and turned back to Sehun before his friend could drag him away. “See you later..?”

 

His voice was soft and the question seemed rhetorical, but it still sounded trembling to Sehun who could not recall giving Yixing a reason to believe that they would not meet as usual. Keeping his smile plastered on, a smile which was partly genuine and partly widened for the sole reason of Luhan being there, Sehun nodded.

 

“As always”

 

Sehun forgot to pay for his coffee that morning, his mind too busy rendering the image of a dimpled Yixing skipping away happily arm in arm with Luhan, but it didn’t matter - the mug had for forgotten reasons no longer been in his hand once he reached the library. Now standing with his feet deep in snow many hours later, admiring the cloud of smoke leaving Yixing’s frostbitten lips when the latter with pink, puffy cheeks muttered broken profanities in reference to the new scar on his hand, Sehun chuckled and patted the other’s head. He had during their short period of friendship been fast to notice the other’s clumsy tendency to poke himself with burning cigarettes and sharp things, and while the way Yixing never seemed to mind the pain should have worried Sehun, the latter found it somehow fascinating. He didn’t know who to blame for his sudden affection for this silly but rather adorkable exchange student, the one whom he found himself wanting to care for, in the strangest of dreams even nurture, so he just decided to leave the matter for later. There was no point in dwelling into the mysterious world of feelings as long as the feelings were nothing but skin-deep and remained at a manageable level.

 

Unconsciously smiling, Sehun watched as Yixing picked up a handful of powder snow and rubbed it against the small but fresh wound. It was funny, almost dangerously intriguing how the other never even grimaced by things that would have even the most rough children cry in pain, because Yixing had come to remind Sehun of a precious child in more ways than one. Sehun had, however, long ago stopped questioning the other’s lack of self-preservation, knowing all too well that some things would remain unexplained for however long eternity was. Maybe Yixing was a dedicated masochist, a worshipper of the everyday pain that came with being clumsy and careless, or maybe he just had some broken nerve endings. Perhaps Sehun would find out one day, perhaps he wouldn’t.

 

Instead of useless words of worry, Sehun finally decided to bring an end to the curiosity which had been tormenting his mind for hours. He wanted to know what Yixing had been about to ask him that morning before Luhan so viciously stole him, wanted to know the reason behind that serious yet indecipherable he had been sporting. Bumping Yixing’s shoulder softly with the palm of his hand, he caught the other’s attention and sent the wound one last glance before proceeding. Yixing’s hand was bright red, completely cooled by the snow, but Sehun did for only a moment wonder where the other’s mittens had gone before remembering that the exchange student had a tendency to not only hurt himself but also to leave his belongings in the most unbelievable places. Sehun shook his head and sighed, finally speaking when he was met with a pair of droopy yet questioning eyes.

 

“What was it that you wanted to ask me earlier?” he asked seriously, but Yixing did to his dismay only stare at him bigeyed while forming a perfectly round circle with his slightly chapped lips.

 

“Huh?”

 

Sehun didn’t respond, suddenly worried that the other would find it weird for someone to linger on something as trivial as an interrupted question. While it was highky uncommon for him to worry about those kinds of petty things, about how other people would perceive him, he had ever since the incident three days ago not been in his right mind. The fact that he had been forced to make a friend without really wanting to, that he had every night in the library been forced to watch plump, talkative lips pout whenever there was a word they couldn't pronounce, had been enough to have Sehun swim in a pool of unfamiliar feelings. The fact that he had quickly accepted the new friend only to find him split open and filled with cum had, however, dragged him even farther away from his already exited comfort zone, and the memory that lecherous night now had him shiver. Once again feeling his mind drift away from reality, Sehun felt something twitch beneath the fabric of his pants but jolted out of trance as soon as Yixing broke the short moment of silence.

 

“Ah, _ah_ ” the other exclaimed, eyebrows raised as if he suddenly remembered something, but immediately lowered his voice and laughed awkwardly before continuing. “It wasn’t important. I can’t really remember, honestly”

 

Sehun raised an eyebrow, not really convinced but neither in a position to argue. Yixing was a mysterious creature - that was all Sehun had been able to conclude after almost a month of knowing him - and creatures like that were not always for humans to examine and define. They were bright, foolish, a bit annoying at times, and while Sehun tried his hardest not to observe Yixing too much, he could still not help but wonder if the suddenly increased intensity of pinkness on the other’s cheeks was because of the cold or something else. He also wanted to hear the question, wanted to know what was going on in Yixing’s head, but he decided to let it go for now. Instead smiling, he followed as Yixing dragged him by the arm, tightly pressed against the smaller body while heading towards the place he had last stepped into a bit too carelessly. He knew who was to blame for this strange affection, he did deep inside, but he refused to think about it - such thoughts would only bring realizations about just what Yixing meant to him, and Sehun wasn’t ready yet. He would never be ready, and that was his unspoken reason for ignoring the warm feeling hugging his insides when Yixing abandoned his arm for his hand, entwining their cold, bare fingers before hiding them in the pocket of Sehun’s jacket.

 

 

 

 

In the blink of an eye, everything had gone back to normal - almost. While Yixing never spoke of that night again and while Sehun never mentioned it, it was as if the incident had caused the latter to notice new things about his no longer new friend. It wasn’t until now that he realized that he had never paid attention to small, peculiar things before - things like how Yixing wiped his lips too much while eating as if he was afraid to leave even the smallest of crumbs, how his pupils retracted when he zoomed out and how they widened when he met eyes with someone, or how he constantly made up new, ridiculous words instead of using a dictionary. There were, however, also other things, things which Sehun found himself frowning from rather than smiling at - occasional bruises on Yixing’s arms and neck not possibly caused by accidently bumping into things, never fading stains of white in even the strangest of corners of his apartment, and sporadic splatters of red on the blankets covering his couch. Sehun had started noticing it all, had become more attentive when it came to this certain friend of his, but that had also resulted in him having become less unaware of the rest of his surroundings than he had even been before. None of it mattered, however, because Sehun had always lived life as it was, never caring to take control unless it was utterly needed, and he would probably keep doing so even now.

 

The snowflakes had just stopped falling when Sehun and Yixing first fell asleep together. It was still cold, even colder than when Sehun had first entered Yixing’s apartment only a week earlier, but the two boys had not cared about pain or frostbite while climbing onto the roof of Yixing’s building. It had quickly become a habit of theirs, to spend hours out in the cold while wrapped in dozens of blankets, dropping philosophical clichés and arguing about the triviality of existence.

 

Laying on his back while staring at the polluted yet clear sky above him, Sehun watched the shimmering of stars fight the thousands of streetlights illuminating the atmosphere. It was a pretty sight, he had to admit, even if he believed that its beauty was nothing but a poetic concept made up by humans wanting to assign a meaning to the universe. He chuckled softly, lighting his seventh cigarette in a row while silently rejoicing the fact that he had bought a whole carton of cigarettes the other day, and turned his head just a bit. Beside him on the hard, frozen shingles lay Yixing, eyelids resting and skin prickling, occasionally moving his thin limbs only to reach for the lighter. It bothered Sehun more than it should have, frustrated him that the other never looked up, that he never opened his eyes to look at the sky and wonder what was out there, how many of those stars were actually still shining.

 

Observing the one beside him for just a short while, Sehun eventually sighed and shut his own eyes, not caring if he would fall asleep or not. Dying while in an unconscious state of mind had always sounded quite appealing to the boy who often dreamt of death, even if thousands of pages of melancholic literature had lately caused him to consider a painful, more heartbreaking end to his story. Smiling weakly without knowing, he soon felt his somber thoughts disperse and fade, his head instead filling with ethereal melodies played on piano.

 

“ _I know simply that the sky will last longer than I_ ” someone hummed, a distant voice audible to him and only him. Inhaling the cold air polluted by exhaust and cigarette smoke, he imagined the stars above him and thought about how many aeons had passed before him and how many were left to pass, but soon found his inner monologue interrupted as Yixing suddenly broke the all too comfortable silence between them.

 

“If life is without intrinsic meaning or value, then would it really matter if we found a way to live forever?” he asked, voice soft and quiet and surprisingly steady given the chattering of his teeth. Sehun chuckled and smirked, his eyes still closed.

 

“You’re answering your own question again, Yixing”

 

Yixing rolled his eyes, Sehun knew without even looking. 

 

“Whatever, smartass”

 

“Smarter than you”

 

Feeling a small fist hit his side, Sehun smiled and opened his eyes. Yixing was giggling, although quietly, and while he suddenly sat up as if he had grown restless from hours of only smoking, he let himself fall back onto the frozen tiles after just a second. Still smiling, Sehun felt the smaller body shuffle closer to his, but he didn’t mind. He was used to it.

 

“Not having to die would be nice” Yixing sighed after a while, fingers mindlessly fiddling at the edges of Sehun’s blanket. His voice was absent, musing, as if he was dreaming of something unattainable and endless, and Sehun raised an amused eyebrow.

 

“You sure?”

 

Suddenly shuffling again, Yixing turned to lay on his side and looked straight at Sehun, his pale but rosy face resting heavily against the palm of his hand.

 

“It would be kind of cool wouldn’t it? Getting to live forever. Imagine all the things you’d get to see” he said, eyes sparkling while he with a dimpled smile poked Sehun’s cold cheek. “Even you wouldn’t say no to that, Sehun”

 

Sehun furrowed his eyebrows, appreciating the idea but not really intrigued by the concept of living forever. Transhumanism had never been his thing, neither had life.

 

“I would, unless I’d be given the ability to end it before I grow bored”

 

“Aren’t you bored already?”

 

“Are you asking me to kill myself?”

 

Pouting at the question, Yixing poked Sehun again, and again, repeatedly. The latter didn’t mind.

 

“Tsk” Yixing muttered and clicked his tongue, letting his cold, lean fingers linger a bit too long between each poke. “Always reading more into things”

 

Before Sehun could respond to those words, he felt a slight flush of warmth shoot through his body as Yixing lay down again and buried himself beneath the blankets, letting his head slip down to rest on Sehun's broader shoulder. It was nice, Sehun admitted, the feeling of the other’s soft hair tickling the side of his face, a small hand resting gently on his chest, but nothing more than that. Having Yixing close to him felt nice, but Yixing was just a friend. A close one, like Jongin. Almost.

 

“You think too much, Sehun” Yixing suddenly mumbled drowsily, his warm breath giving Sehun goosebumps where it hit his neck, “but sometimes you don’t think enough”

 

With a deep sigh, Yixing drifted away, leaving Sehun alone with his own, tired thoughts. Sounds of cars and people  could be heard faintly in the background despite it being past midnight, and while the brightness of stars was usually enough for the boy who despised sleep to remain awake, Sehun soon found his own eyelids getting heavy. Eventually succumbing to the state beyond trance, he let them fall shut, no longer trying to remain conscious and no longer alert enough to fight the burning sensation caused by cold fingers suddenly gripping his, entwining.

 

A few, lonely snowflakes fell slowly through the air, landing on Sehun’s cheek and melting, but Sehun didn’t even notice - all that filled his body and mind at that moment was the feeling of plump lips brushing slightly against his neck when Yixing shifted in his sleep, shuffling closer to fight the coldness of winter. Too tired to stop what was happening, to try to extinguish the small fire which was suddenly burning inside of him, Sehun simply sighed and surrendered. The feeling would pass soon, he was sure, and that was why he didn’t stop the fire from accompanying him when he finally joined Yixing in dreamland.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sehun and Yixing get drunk together.

 

Waking up hours later by the sound of winter birds chirping, Sehun found himself frozen to the bone and with an equally cold body resting heavily against his. A thin layer of fresh snow lay fallen like pieces of the sky, spread still over the many blankets covering their stiff limbs. Watching thousands of tiny crystals fall off as he heaved himself up on one elbow, he groaned unintentionally and poked the shivering figure next to him.

 

“Yixing…”

 

Incoherent mumbling was the only response as Yixing shifted in his sleep, unconsciously grabbing Sehun’s poking hand, pulling it closer.

 

“Yixing, stop it, the sun is almost up…”

 

Scowling deeply at the sound of his frozen limbs cracking, Sehun rose to his feet and kicked the sleeping one lightly, earning a childish whine in response. There was a kind of indescribable, immaterial heat caused by the friction between their cold fingers when he pulled Yixing up, like the imagined heat emerging from those faux fireplaces seen on television, but that heat did nonetheless not make up for the coldness of the snow stuck in their dishevelled hair.

 

Descending the rusty escape ladders in order to get back into the warmth of Yixing’s apartment was even harder than it had been to actually reach the roof. It had been “easy-peasy” to break the lock to the attic through which one could sneak up, Yixing had proudly claimed earlier, but to with still sleepy feet trying not to slip on the unsteady ladder and fall right into the arms of Mephistopheles was much harder than shoving some “borrowed” crowbar through the crack of an already broken door, especially for Yixing who was clumsier than most. While Sehun did without shame laugh at the sight of the tiny other slipping repeatedly while struggling to conquer the sharp yet slippery metal, he did for a moment feel his heart stop when Yixing finally gave up and spent the last, few metres falling through air, temporarily disappearing into a large pile of soft snow. Giggling afterwards, the man covered in white, shimmering powder had to convince Sehun that he was in fact not suicidal, but the post-traumatic stress caused by almost having to watch his careless friend die vanished as soon as Yixing once again grabbed his hand and dragged him inside.

 

Once inside and still shaking, Sehun spared no time before throwing himself onto the stained couch on which he had not long watched his friend orgasm around the organ of another man. He shivered, this time because of other reasons than cold weather, but nevertheless tried to whisk away the unpleasant and equally unwanted feeling caused by the memory of that night. He didn’t know why he still caught himself thinking about it, occasionally getting upset or even aroused by it, and neither was he sure if he wanted to. There was no denying that the sight of Yixing lying spread out with his parts all visible, so brutally submissive at the hands of another person, had several times popped into his mind at the most unconvenient of times, but it didn’t matter. Sehun was not attracted by Yixing, not at all. It was true that there was a kind of strange satisfaction in watching the other pout his lips or stretch his limbs, but that didn't mean anything. No, Yixing was sweet and adorable - anyone, straight or not, would have been a fool to deny that - but it didn't  _mean_ anything. Sehun refused to consider the possibility of himself being attracted to some strange yet cute short-term exchange student, and even less did he dare to think of the risk of actually falling for him. While he had only recently started avoiding things like fucking - he had grown tired of having to constantly come up with excuses as to why he kept spending nights away with strangers of the same sex - romance had never been his thing, not at all.

 

After half-heartedly throwing a quick glance at Yixing who dragged his feet towards the small kitchenette of his tiny apartment, Sehun turned his gaze to the windows and sighed. It was four in the morning, maybe half past - the sun lay low, slowly rising and illuminating the white flakes dangling through the cold air. A few cars could be heard through the poorly isolated walls and the balcony door which never seemed to close properly, but it was by the sight of shy squirells climbings the almost bare trees instead of hiding obvious that it wasn't time to wake up just yet. It was early, too early, and that was one of the reasons why Sehun jumped and turned when the sound of a loud pop suddenly reached his ears.

  
“Is that… wine?” he asked with a dumbfounded expression on after turning to Yixing who had just reappeared from the kitchenette, limbs heavy and eyes barely open. The question was, however, unnecessary, because it was obvious that the ridiculously large bottle resting in Yixing’s small hands contained neither coffee nor tea. Yixing yawned, not caring to meet Sehun’s questioning gaze while seating himself on the opposite side of the couch.

 

“Yes?”

 

Sehun raised an eyebrow, a bit amused by the nonchalant tone but nevertheless worried about the other’s health.

 

"It's barely morning yet, Yixing"

 

Pausing his attempts to curl himself up into a comfortable position, Yixing looked up and finally met the gaze resting on him, his tired eyes suddenly widening as if he could not understand what was so wrong about gulping alcohol before the sun had even fully risen.

 

“So?” he asked apathetically, for a few seconds only staring at Sehun’s flabbergasted face before eventually turning his attention back to the bottle. There was something slightly funny about it, something comical about the way he stretched his limbs and cracked his fingers as if preparing his body for a round of destructive drinking, and it actually had Sehun pause and consider. This was not how he had planned to spend his morning - a morning which should in fact have been filled with important lectures - but plowing through snow in order to reach the university wasn’t really on the list of things he wanted to do at this hour. While he was still tired and not really fond of the idea of starting his day off by drinking, he already knew that there was no stopping the obviously insane exchange student from doing so.

 

With an eyebrow still raised observing Yixing who had not yet cared to drink from the already opened bottle, Sehun made up his mind. It was way too early to drink, it was true, but watching a friend getting drunk while remaining sober himself was no fun - years of living with Jongin had made him painfully aware of that fact. Clearing his throat, he dragged Yixing who was still half-asleep out of his reverie.

 

“You have any glasses?”

 

There was a bit of surprise in Yixing’s eyes as he tore his unfocused gaze from the floor which he had been watching for a minute or less, but it was soon replaced with a small smirk which was different from his typical smile. The dimple was still there, mocking Sehun who wanted nothing more than to bury his finger in it, and his eyes were still laughably droopy, but on that pretty face of his was something else as well, something slightly ominous. Grabbing the bottle, he took a few dangerously large gulps before widening his smile, handing the toxic beverage over to Sehun.

 

“We won’t need any glasses”

 

-

 

Sehun could not stop laughing. After bitterly reciting the principles of existentialism, angrily claiming that existence was but an illusion and that pain was thus only an hallucination caused by our own hyperaesthetic minds, Yixing had in a feigned yet drunken rage violently reached for his second bottle of wine only to fall down to the floor and squeal like a baby. Now trying to refrain from saying something about the irony of that scene when Yixing sent him an murderous glance, Sehun grabbed the other by his thin waist and helped him return to his former position on the couch.

 

“You rebel, Yixing, therefore you exist!” he exclaimed dramatically and snickered, too amused by the sight of Yixing pouting his wine-stained lips to control his laughter. The sarcastic remark did nothing to help dampen the other’s childish outbursts.

 

“When are you gonna stop quoting that stupid old man, Sehun!” Yixing complained, muttering and pouting and ready to once again reach for the bottle before noticing the choked sounds coming from Sehun who was holding his stomach.  “And stop laughing at me!”

 

Sehun tried to stop, he really did, but alcohol had long ago poisoned his system and the sound of the other’s high-pitched, petulant voice only had his laughters intensify. Yixing’s face was contorted yet sweet, his previously pouting lips now pursed and his puffy cheeks rosy from intoxication, and he was whining, loudly. Letting out a choked yet happy shriek when Yixing threw himself on his back and kicked him violently and repeatedly, like a dying, slippery fish trying to hurt the laughing one as much as possible, Sehun grabbed the other by his lean legs and shoved him away. Still laughing, he leaned forward to poke Yixing’s wrinkled nose, for a moment hovering over the other’s smaller body.

 

_"Cute"_

 

He wasn’t sure whether it should have hurt or not when Yixing with a loud, prolonged groan pressed a palm against his face and pushed him away, having him fall backwards into his own spot on the couch, but he didn’t really care - sensory loss was a fact because he was, after all, more than tipsy. Now wiping away the tears caused by his uncontrollable laughing, he just grinned teasingly at Yixing who stuck out his tongue in a way so childish that it would have annoyed him if someone else had done it.

 

Silence followed, if one would overlook the sound of stuff falling to the floor when Yixing blindly and angrily grabbed the bottle along with some book which Sehun had left there before, buried in a pile of obscure literature on the stained coffee table. Still chuckling quietly, Sehun watched the other gulp wine as if there was no tomorrow, all while with a huge pout on his face pretending to read. It was painfully hard to not burst into crazy laughter again, because Yixing was holding the book upside down and it was for some reason funniest thing in the world to the boy had not been drunk in what felt like ages. Nonetheless trying his hardest to keep a straight face, Sehun did in fear of his own pointless life not have the courage to point it out - he had found that despite being small and somewhat adorable, the exchange student was unpredictable and could be quite dangerous while intoxicated or insulted.

 

Eventually calming down, Yixing did with glazed, drunken eyes just stare into the book he could not possibly be reading. While Sehun still found it funny, how the other could look so serious in his attempts to ignore someone, he soon felt his urge to laugh lessen as he too fell into the calmness caused by alcohol. It was almost as if they were falling asleep despite it being only morning, because not even daydreams filled the mind of Sehun who just stared out the window, and the pout on Yixing’s face was already gone when he suddenly grabbed the now empty bottle from his lap and turned it upside down. Sehun turned to look, at Yixing who was frowning after realizing that there was no more alcohol, at the small drops of red wine dripping from the bottle, landing on the rugged carpet and disappearing. He shut his eyes, tiredness almost overcoming him in that moment, but soon opened them again when pensive words broke the all too comfortable silence.

 

“Did you know that Kafka was supposedly a renown sex-addict?” Yixing asked, his voice not nearly as slurry as it should have been. Sehun chuckled in response. He was a bit surprised that the other had actually managed to register the author of the book he was still holding, upside down.

 

“Yeah, I heard he was quite the womanizer”

 

“He did men, too”

 

Sehun mumbled, too tipsy to think before speaking.

 

“Who doesn’t?”

 

Immediately freezing at his own words, he felt his face heat and his cheeks grow red, and he prayed that the other wouldn’t notice. He had never told Yixing that he liked men because he had not deemed it necessary, and while he didn’t believe that the other would judge him for it - for obvious reasons - he was still a bit scared. Scared to for the first time admit it in front of someone, scared to openly confirm that he did in fact share the same sexuality as the one whose naked body he sometimes found himself thinking about while in the shower. Yixing did, however, not seem to read anything into it as he kept staring into the book with a stiff face - at least not until he responded.

 

“Do you?”

 

Sehun just stared, nervous. The other’s voice was steady, all signs of drunkenness suddenly gone, and while his face was unusually stiff and though he was biting his lip as if impatiently awaiting a response, Sehun realized that it didn’t matter. Why would he lie to Yixing about this, Yixing whom he had in fact seen bent over this very couch with a fully erected cock shoved up his ass? Eventually gathering his courage, he coughed awkwardly and hoped that there would be no following conversation.

 

“I might have done it sometime” he mumbled quietly and inarticulately, and he did for only a split second have time to register the sudden fire in Yixing’s eyes before the other raised his voice just a bit and slapped him with another question.

 

“Would you do me?”

 

Sehun froze, again.

 

“W-what?” _Is he testing me?_

 

Dropping his stiff expression, Yixing looked at him with eyes that were both daring and uncertain, and Sehun swallowed, suddenly afraid. The way the other was biting his lip had turned from nervous to something else within a second and it gave birth to something unsought in Sehun’s belly, something ominous. He recognized that look in Yixing’s eyes - the ambiguous one, the one he had seen on that day when Yixing first approached him in the library, the one that had excited him before.

 

Suddenly dropping both the book and the empty bottle onto the floor without caring, causing Sehun to jump at the noise it made, Yixing got on his knees and crawled towards him in the couch, playfully yet tentatively. There was something about the expression on his face - shy in a way, yet undeniably predatory - and Sehun would have been lying to say that it didn’t give spark to the tiniest flame within him. It was as if he suddenly felt hungry, discovering some sort of desire he had up to know been neglecting. Yixing continued speaking, his eyes now big and sparkly and his body leaning over Sehun’s.

 

“Would you do _me_? For fun?”

 

The sun had just risen above the roofs and the room still smelled of wine, but Sehun gave it no thought as he felt his cheeks grow even redder and his pants grow slightly tighter. He cursed this body of his, the flesh prison he was stuck in and the way his member twitched treacherously as if trying to reveal his darkest, suppressed yearnings. He realized that he was chained by lust, temporarily weakened by the power of alcohol.

 

“I… I don’t know” he just mumled and looked away, still uncomfortably surprised by this sudden situation. He wanted to fight what was happening down there, wanted to deny that he had in fact - unwillingly - been having inappropriate thoughts about this friend of his, but luck was not on his side this morning. About to come up with some further response, to with some stupid witticism about alcohol joke this absurd feeling away, he suddenly felt Yixing grab his shoulders and straddle him. Staring at the other in complete shock, he did with weak words try to stop what was about to happen but failed.

 

“Yixing, we-”

 

“We’re friends, right?”

 

 _Friends_. That was what Sehun had been telling himself so many times, while desperately whisking away unwanted feelings caused by watching the other lick his plump lips or even smile. He had in his head recited the word so many times that he had actually started to believe that he was in fact not destructively attracted by this weird yet cute exchange student, but the word seemed to lose its power now. Still giving his lies one last hopeless try, he nevertheless found himself at loss for words.

 

“Of course we’re friends, but-” he began, searching for words, unsuccessfully. His insides were burning at this point and he almost found himself giving in to this feeling, but it didn’t take long until Yixing’s face turned from smiling to disappointed where he sat, still straddling the boy who was as stiff as a board.

 

“Oh...” The other’s eyes lost their sparkle and he began to move away, with a growing pout abandoning Sehun’s lap. “I’m sorry, I thought-”

 

Feeling the other move on top of him, Sehun snapped, something happening in his disordered mind when he caught a glimpse of the smooth, pale skin peeking out from beneath Yixing’s shirt. Grabbing the smaller man’s hips without thinking, he pulled him back into his former position and exhaled, drunk on something more than alcohol. To say that Yixing looked taken aback by the sudden gesture would have been an understatement, but his questioning yet wild eyes now bore that same fire which burned Sehun’s crotch.

 

Sehun could in this fleeting moment not deny it anymore, the fact that he was attracted by the man in front of him. While he didn’t know what he was doing or if it was a good idea, he could not stop the somewhat painful sensation in his stomach, the aroused butterflies he had until now been fighting. He had to admit to himself that it had grown in him ever since he saw Yixing with that man, even been fueled every time he saw Yixing lean in when Luhan whispered something too close to his ear, and he could not stop it anymore.

 

Still grabbing onto the other’s hips, he looked into his eyes and let his thoughts wander for a moment. He thought about the one on top of him - his small frame, his plump, pouty lips, his playful gaze, his… moans. The way he squeezed his eyes shut while orgasming, whining like some injured puppy. Sehun shivered. The images from that night had been stuck in his brain for a long time, like an annoying screensaver appearing whenever he fell into standby, and this situation did nothing to help him. Returning to reality, he unconsciously tightened his grip on the other, secretly satisfied by the small pant it caused. While he knew deep inside that this was a bad idea, he was still too intoxicated to fight it. It was not like they were in love or anything, he thought - what could possibly go wrong?

 

Looking straight into Yixing’s wide, fluttering eyes, he inhaled deeply before confirming, his voice surprisingly stable given his nervousness.

 

“Friends?” he asked, still a tiny bit unsure, and Yixing paused, but only for a moment. 

 

“ _Forever_ ”

 

Looking as if his smile would crack his face, Yixing seemed happier than what was healthy given this situation. It looked almost as if he had been planning this moment, because the way he shamelessly palmed Sehun’s growing bulge without waiting was nothing like shy. Unintentionally letting out a sharp puff of air when he felt the lean fingers linger and squeeze, Sehun tightened his grip on the other’s hips and moaned quietly. There was no turning back now and he cursed himself for this sudden feeling of not knowing what to do - he had done this so many times, slept with people without it meaning anything _more_ , but he still found himself a bit conflicted. They were so close now, Yixing and him, their faces only centimeteres apart, and he did for a short moment wonder if he should capture those plump lips in front of him to make it less awkward. The decision was, however, in the end made by Yixing who leaned in closer to rest his head on Sehun’s shoulder, while in a great haste pulling down both of their already strained zippers.

 

In another sudden heat just deciding to go with the flow, Sehun slipped his hand in under Yixing’s pants, tentatively stroking the skin. It was softer than he had imagined - not the he _had_ imagined it, he thought, but that was as usual a lie. Yixing’s kept quiet, his thin fingers stroking Sehun’s still clothed bulge harder, and Sehun suppressed a moan, automatically squeezing the other’s ass harder. While a part of him screamed for him to control himself, to even stop what they were doing entirely, he wouldn’t listen - the skin he was touching was way too soft when he automatically let his finger travel in between the buttcheeks, and there was soon no stopping him from slipping a dry finger inside.

 

Gasping loudly against his neck, Yixing jerked but kept stroking, massaging. They were both still dressed, not yet exposed in front of each other, but that didn’t stop Sehun’s heart from beating so painfully fast. It almost felt as if he was back to losing his virginity, yet not, because the way the other moved back and forth ever so slowly felt unfamiliar even though he had felt it before with other people. Staying like that for just a moment, reveling in the tightness of Yixing and the hand gripping his clothed erection, he realized that the others breathing had gone from quiet to heavy within seconds.

 

It was scary but funny in a way, how they had been strangers only weeks ago. While it was true that Sehun had only the night before - the night on which they had first fallen asleep together - realized that their relationship had progressed way too fast, he had not been able to even for a second imagine that this was how the following morning would turn out. Now sitting there on the couch with Yixing on top him, one finger inside his relatively newfound friend, he was just about to slip another one in when loud words stopped him.

 

“ _Don’t!_ ” Sehun froze, pulling his head back to look at Yixing despite seeing only stars. “Don’t do that”

 

Wondering if he had done something wrong, even caused any pain perhaps, he only stared. Yixing was still riding his hand slowly, breathing irregularly with his eyelids hanging heavy, and he was despite his previously frantic tone fast to explain.

 

“I like it when it hurts”

 

In slight surprise pausing for a moment, Sehun loosened his grip on the other just a bit. He had already suspected him to be a masochist, but never had he thought of it in terms of sexuality. Now feeling his insides burn as he watched Yixing's face drop, he nevertheless considered - it was just sex, and he had in his drunken mind already accepted that there was no turning back. It was not like he had been asked to strangle him, so how bad could it possibly end?

 

Finally deciding, he pulled his finger out. He tried to gaze into the other, tried to search for answers to questions he had not even asked himself yet, but all he saw in the other was sudden fear and disappointment. Yixing obviously believed that Sehun had changed his mind, because his stroking hand had now stopped, already on his way to pull back, but Sehun had not changed his mind - they had already gone too far. Still holding onto the other, he pushed him gently out of his lap, back onto the couch.

 

“Turn around”

 

The darkness of his own voice surprised him, but Yixing didn’t seem to care. Silently obliging, he left the couch, quickly positioning himself on his knees in front of it. The way he leaned over it, his half-clothed ass sticking out in such a convenient position almost had Sehun choke on his own spit, but that was nothing compared to when he turned his head over his shoulder and smiled cutely. There he was - Yixing, the adorkable exchange student, kneeling willingly while locking eyes with Sehun who was now behind him.

 

“Make it hurt” he said simply, his dimple showing.

 

There was no uncertainty in his voice or eyes, and that was what triggered Sehun who didn't hesitate to approach him, placing his surprisingly steady hands against the small waist. He inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly when he let them slide upwards across the other’s back, pulling up the shirt which Yixing was quick to pull off and toss away. Sehun had already seen his bare torso one time before but it looked beautiful nevertheless, with its shallow cuts and suspicious bruises.

 

_What are we doing?_

 

Letting his hands travel freely, he barely registered that Yixing turned his head back and rested it against the couch, his breath hitching noticeably when his pants got pulled down, dropping to the floor. If his back had been beautiful, then this was stunning - perfectly smooth, hairless skin, having Sehun wonder if this exchange student had perhaps skipped puberty. He just stared for a moment, groundlessly flabbergasted by the sight before him.

 

With no hesitation left in his body, his mind still slightly intoxicated, Sehun eventually let his hands travel even further, his thumb tracing the other’s rim slowly as if to get a reaction. Yixing shivered, a small yet exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pushed backwards, asking for more, and Sehun pulled back, equally impatient. He didn’t recognize the feeling, the way his heart beat so fast as if he was not merely aroused, when he pulled his own pants down just a bit to free his incessantly swelling member. Remembering Yixing’s words, he nevertheless spit in his hand before stroking it, leaving it slick with all the saliva that had been gathering in his mouth during minutes of anticipation. He didn’t even wait - eagerly guiding his member to the other's hole, he pressed inside without stretching, just like Yixing had implicitly asked him to.

 

It hurt just a bit, the pressure around him as he pushed inside entirely, but the pain was soon overcome by ecstasy and pleasure. For a moment forgetting what the other must be feeling, getting penetrated too fast without being stretched, Sehun just tried to fight his sudden dizziness while listening to Yixing’s sharp pants. It was overwhelming, almost unbearable, the way he felt himself pulsate inside of the other who clenched, but he endured it. It had been long since he had been inside of someone, since he had even had someone inside of himself, at it along with the peculiar feeling of unexpectedly getting to fuck his new best friend made him have to fight back an untimely orgasm.

 

Unconsciously digging his fingernails into the thin yet soft skin covering Yixing’s sharp hips, Sehun pulled out just a bit, shivering as the other let out needy moans. It was an exciting sound, he thought, even though it still felt a bit awkward - it was something he had until that unfortunate night weeks ago only ever heard in nasty, indecent videos. Now feeling his body heat up in impatience, he pushed inside again, harder and much faster than before. Yixing yelped loudly in response to the sudden roughness, his knuckles turning white when he clutched the stained blankets covering the couch on which he had been fucked before.

 

It was rough, slow, and every moan, every whimper fueled Sehun who shoved inside harder every time, his fingernails digging deeper and deeper into the other’s soft flesh. Soon feeling himself grow even dizzier when the memory of Yixing getting taken by that ruthless stranger suddenly popped into his mind, he half-heartedly tried to fight the inexplicable anger that had been lurking in him since then but failed. He didn’t know if it was rage or something else - even less did he consider the possibility of it being jealousy - but it fueled him even more. Not even slightly caring about being careful anymore, he simply devoured the other who kept moaning blissfully, shoving into him as if he owned him.

 

Yixing was frantically whining by the time Sehun loosened his grip on his hips, watching as white marks caused by his own hands faded slowly. The sight had him calm down a bit, feeling indescribably good about the way he had been the reason for those marks, and he stroked the now prickling skin gently, reveling in its softness. Soon feeling himself travel dangerously faster towards release, he automatically abandoned Yixing’s waist to reach for his neglected member which was leaking at this point, but Yixing shouted, his voice choked and resembling a sob.

 

“ _No!_ ” Sehun wanted to pause, but he couldn’t. Instead just withdrawing his hand as if he had accidentally hurt the other too much, he kept thrusting and tried to speak. Yixing did however beat him to it. “Don’t touch me. I don’t deserve it”

 

Confused but nevertheless choosing not to interpret those desperately panted words, Sehun obeyed. He was too deep in Yixing to stop and ask, and even though he was by now seriously worried about the other’s mental health, he did for the moment not care - Yixing had dragged him into this lecherous situation, so if lack of stimulation was what he wanted, then that was what he would get. Sehun would not be the one to deny him his wish.

 

Continuing to thrust with more force each time, Sehun kept crashing into Yixing, the latter meeting him by pushing his sore ass backwards. They just kept going like that for minute after minute, Sehun dangerously close to coming and not at all helped by Yixing’s frantic moans and needy whimpers, and while he seriously thought that he would be the first to snap, he wasn’t.

 

Yixing came first with a drawn out squeal, his voice breaking, his back arching and unpleasantly cracking. It didn’t take long for Sehun to follow. Feeling the other’s already tight walls grow clench even tighter around his painfully throbbing member, he put his arms around the thin waist before him, pulling the already limp Yixing up to press against his still clothed chest. He guided the other’s head to rest against his own shoulder, for a split second catching sight of the white mess before them while wondering if this was why the couch was always covered in blankets, but soon lost track of everything else than his own burgeoning orgasm.

 

Still hugging the limp body tightly, his face right next to Yixing’s, he felt cum escape the other’s hole as he pressed inside a few more times, letting out a few throaty moans. Yixing seemed dead by now but he was still whimpering ever so softly, and it sounded like a lullaby to Sehun who soon collapsed onto the floor, pulling the limp one with him.

 

Still connected and shivering, they just lay there for a minute, trying to catch their breaths. While Sehun had already started to return to reality, his mind already screaming at him in rage and regret for being so stupid, he let himself have that short moment, the moment which felt nicer than it should have. With his arms still around Yixing and his dick still inside, he shut his eyes, breathing in the smell of sex as he felt his clothed chest stick to the other’s glistening back.

 

Not until he heard choked giggles, a giddy voice letting out almost noiseless laughs, did Sehun open his eyes again. Yixing had put on his hands on top of his, entwining their fingers on top of his belly while giggling like a child, and suddenly, everything felt wrong. Feeling his mind grow dizzy again, this time because of neither alcohol nor arousal, Sehun pulled his own hands away, removing himself from the smaller body.

 

_What have I done._

 

The way he let his still hard dick slip out of the other a bit too carelessly, leaving his hole gaping and leaking, didn’t seem to bother Yixing who had just stopped giggling, his eyes now shut and with a small yet ecstatic smile on his lips. Wondering if the other was actually crazy or if he himself was being overly sensitive, Sehun turned his face away, unable to look. Yixing didn’t even seem to notice as he just lay there, completely exposed and humming quietly as if in deep trance.

 

There was no telling how long they had been going at it, but the sun was now shining right through the dirty windows, illuminating the naked body resting heavily on the floor. Sehun almost tripped when he stood up, not even caring to clean himself before pulling up his pants, because he wanted to leave, now. Just like on that night when he had by mistake caught Yixing get taken by that older man, Sehun wanted to leave fast.

 

" _Sehun..._ "

 

He could hear Yixing’s childish whines but he ignored them. The other’s eyes were still shut where he lay on the floor, his whole figure bathing in direct sunlight, shamelessly on display like some excavated marble statue.

 

“Sehun, what are you doing… Come back...”

 

Sehun just reached for his bag, not knowing how to respond to the needy words. While Yixing had been like this throughout their short friendship - whiny, needy, longing for intimacy - and while Sehun had not minded it, it all felt different now. They had now done something, something which wasn’t necessarily wrong, but something which had the potential to fuck everything up. Sehun didn’t know how, but he somehow trusted the feeling in his gut telling him that they should not have done this.

 

Finally gathering all of his stuff, he readied himself to leave. He knew that he was being rude, beause leaving his friend naked and stretched on the floor without even staying to talk would probably not help them at all, but had neither the courage nor care to express his worries. He was always like that when faced with something difficult, had always been and would probably always be. On his way out, however, he stopped at the sound of Yixing’s suddenly anxious voice.

  
“You’re leaving?” The other had apparently opened his eyes and was now staring at the escaping one, his body still blatantly spread out on the floor but his face fallen as if he was genuinely disappointed. Sehun felt the previous drunkenness come back to him, a vicious headache starting to feast on his brain, and he frowned deeply.

 

“I have early lectures tomorrow so I gotta prepare” he responded, trying to control his voice but failing when it came out too stiff and revealing. While his words were not false and while he knew that he could stay, he didn’t want to. He knew that he could even sleep there later if he wanted to, even share the other’s bed - Yixing had several times asked him to without any success - but he had to leave. For reasons he could not put into words yet, Sehun had to escape.

 

“Do you have to? It’s not even noon yet...” Yixing’s voice was small, quiet when he spoke, his eyes wide and shiny, but Sehun still sent him an undeserved glance, silently begging him to stop. The other seemed to get the hint, because he suddenly looked shameful when he heaved himself up with his palms and covered his naked crotch, lowering his head as he did. “Oh… well… bye, I guess…”

 

It hurt more than just a bit, watching Yixing’s face drop and his body squirm beneath the small hands that were in fact not covering anything at all, and Sehun could not help but feeling bad. A part of him wanted to stay, to do all the pointless stuff they usually did as if nothing inappropriate had ever happened, but another part of him - the one which screamed for him to run - was in this moment stronger. Nevertheless remaining for just another second, he sent the other a forced and most painful smile.

 

“See you tomorrow, Yixing”

 

Trying his hardest not to sprint, he didn’t register the desperate words “ _call me when you get ho-_ ” leaving Yixing’s lips before he shut the door with a soft click. Finally alone and on the outside, he stopped and turned his gaze to the sky.

 

Snowflakes were falling slowly, almost refracting sunrays as they dangled through the cold air. Inhaling deeply through his nostrils, Sehun shut his eyes and waited - for the melting crystals to soak his face and drown him, for these sudden feelings of longing and regret to leave his body. He wanted something to happen, something to have him able to shake away this sudden confusion, but he did as usual not get what he wanted.

 

He didn't know what was happening to him, what this foreign feeling lurking in his chest was when an image of Yixing's broken expression appeared in his mind, but he nevertheless stayed grounded, kept his eyes shut and breathed. For the longest moment, he just stood there under the vast sky, waiting for the snow to devour him, waiting for everything to make sense, but it didn't work. Cursing his own life, he just kept waiting, stuck in his own misery yet happily unaware of the boy who was standing on a french balcony not far from there, wrapped in stained blankets while watching him with slow tears running down his pink, puffy cheeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to when Sehun and Yixing first saw each other.

 

_(the cafeteria, a few weeks earlier)_

 

“But I just don’t  _get it_ , Xing. Why,  _why_  would you apply for an extracurricular course when you don’t have to?” Luhan whined for the hundredth time that day while half-heartedly trying to avoid his best friend’s feeding hand. The argument had been going on since morning, still hot now even hours after Yixing had so carelessly admitted to having decided to take a short, web-based philosophy course just for the sake of it.

 

“Because it’s interesting” the latter simply responded, shoving another spoonful of tasteless food into the blabbering mouth of his overprotective friend in order to shut him up for at least a second. He knew that what he was doing was crazy, but mental suffering had always been his thing, as had physical - it excited him, made him feel alive. Pain had ever since his childhood added that little splash of red to the otherwise dull, monochrome limbo that was life.

 

“I don’t care if it’s ‘ _interesting_ ’ or ‘ _just a web-based one_ ’, you’re doing full-time already” Luhan kept whining with his mouth stuffed and open, not caring even slightly about the pieces of now saliva-drenched food hitting the face of the not-so amused Yifan, a fellow exchange student who had been forced to listen to their childish quarelling for years. “It’s only our first week here and you’re already killing yourself!”

 

Yixing kept feeding him, a cute smile adorning his lips that were still swollen and sore after a long night of what he preferred to call innocent fraternizing with local strangers rather than lecherous misbehaving.

 

“Me killing myself is none of your business, Lulu”

 

Luhan pouted, ignoring the evil glare sent by Yifan as the latter with a next to nauseous expression reached for a napkin.

 

“It is, because I’m practically your boyfriend and I don’t wanna see you buried in some pile of tear-stained papers before I even get to marry-”

 

“You’re not my boyfriend, Lulu”

 

“I said  _practically_ -”

 

“Shit, Xing, someone’s looking at you!”

 

By some miracle managing to pause their endless bickering, the two friends turned to Jinjing who was staring madly across the tables, ferociously sucking on the straw of her carbonated drink. Because of the sudden situation leaving the dispute behind, Yixing tried to follow her gaze but got shouted at before he could locate the undescribed target.

 

“ _Don't look, you idiot!_ ”

 

Silently obliging, he kept his eyes averted, for the sake of the demand trying to act like he didn’t know while on the inside not caring about accidentally meeting eyes with some stranger. A small spark had been lit in him by the thought of someone looking, because apart from being a flagrant masochist, he had always relied on attention. “Shameless attention whore” was the derogatory nickname which had caused many sad tears throughout the years, as was “pain-worshipping nymphomaniac”. He could, however, in very rare moments of fabricated self-esteem not help but chuckle lightly at the accuracy of such sobriquets.

 

“Who is he?” were the words eventually mumbled by Luhan who had taken the liberty to act as eyes for his friend, his own narrowed and accompanied by a pair of pursed lips. In a fit of unjustified jealousy squeezing the thigh which in his mind belonged to him, he received an excessively hard kick on the shin by Yixing who wanted to roll his eyes but opted to keep his face straight. Another one of their friends spoke up, someone not as visibly excited as Jinjing but luckily enough neither as annoyed as Yifan.

 

“His name is Sehun, I think” Liu began, poking her food instead of looking up, as if she hoped to find something more interesting among the grey, overcooked vegetables than some creepy dude. “He’s in the same class as Chanyeol and that kid who tried to get into your panties on the first day”

 

Luhan hummed while continuing to stroke Yixing’s thigh, still narrowing his eyes yet recalling the mentioned event with an already sprouting, proud smile.

 

“You mean Baek? He’s nice”

 

“...if by ‘nice’, you mean a complete slut” Jinjing who was still shamelessly staring across the tables added in, almost instantly and as a result of her rude remark having to wipe soy sauce thrown by a suddenly angry Luhan off of her face.

 

“Says the biggest whore of all!”

 

“I thought you were the biggest whore of all, you whiny little bitch? Just because Yixing lets you fuck his ass doesn’t mean you’re any less of a slut than he-”

 

“I’m going to fucking end you, Jinjing”

 

When Luhan began to climb the table, although getting restrained by Yixing who was somehow still smiling cutely despite the commotion, Yifan sighed deeply. While in an attempt to save himself from his socially incapable friends’ premature behaviour, he poked the deep asleep Zitao who had his head rested heavily against his arm while drooling, but he got no response.

 

“Guys,  _please_ ” he begged while beginning to desperately shake Zitao whose comatose-like state would have none of his poking, but everyone’s attention did in the end get snatched by Liu who spoke as calmly as usual.

 

“You can look now, Xing. He’s talking to his friend”

 

Pausing his struggles to prevent Luhan from ripping Jinjing’s face off and devouring it raw as a victory feast, Yixing felt the excitement return to him as he let his gaze travel to the one who had allegedly been looking at him, and his ridiculously high expectations were more than met. Blatantly and with his mouth hanging open staring at the boy across the room - Yixing had unconsciously and unintentionally never been the one to hide neither his intentions nor emotions - he barely registered the rhetorical question sent by a now highly amused Liu.

 

“Pretty cute, huh?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

After throwing one more vegetable at Luhan who almost jumped her again before receiving a threatening glare from Yifan, Jinjing decided to join the fun, having the somewhat reliefed yet mentally exhausted Yifan pray that no one else around them knew how to speak their native tongue.

 

“Cute? More like Venus’ hot brother! I’d strangle a baby if I could eat that guy’s load for breakfast” she exclaimed, causing loud gag sounds to reverberate around the table.

 

“Stop being gross, Jinjing” Zitao who had by some miracle abandoned his slumber mumbled with a raspy voice, his dark, protruding eyes even puffier than usual and his face marked by the crinkles of his wet sleeve. Whimpering pathetically when Yifan’s elbow hit his side because of the comment, he nevertheless grimaced at Jinjing who stuck out her tongue in response.

 

Not caring about any of this, about his friends’ continued driveling over mundane matters such as the “potential potency of that kid called Sehun”, Yixing ironically enough kept observing the stranger, studying him. The other was not eating, only poking the small amount of unidentifiable food stuffed into his scratched metal lunchbox, and the way his somewhat pale lips pursed slightly whenever his smirking, nameless friend said something hinted at annoyance or maybe fatigue. It was intriguing in a way, how he according to Yixing - and Jinjing, obviously - was attractive enough to have half the population run after him while at the same time, with his stiff figure and inhospitable semblance, looking intimidating enough to have any sane person avoid him.  _Lucky me_ , Yixing thought while humming quietly, with a cute smile on his lips proudly recalling the binder of medical records proving that he was in fact clinically insane.

 

The stranger suddenly moved - shifting in his seat just a bit, causing his protruding collarbones to rub against the all too covering fabric stretched over his broad shoulders, he let his glazed eyes travel from smirking friend to boring lunchbox in what looked like deep contemplation or maybe a daydream. Yixing gasped despite not knowing why and tilted his head, for some absurd reason or another believing that the cracking of his cervical vertebraes was in fact the sound of buttons being pushed - buttons connected to his hitherto unexplored ability to transform his own useless corneas into camera lenses. Not worrying about or even considering the risk of getting caught trying to mentally photograph this provocatively hot stranger, all he could do was wonder what it would feel like to have those long, slender fingers wrapped around his own neck, that hidden yet presumptively large cock shoved up his already trained ass. Shivering, he crossed his legs beneath the table in a poor attempt to stop his own little buddy from growing impatient, while still blocking out the sound of his babbling friends’ occasional efforts to catch his attention.

 

Completely ignoring his best friend’s continued attempts to strangle Jinjing when the latter suddenly asked about “princess Lulu’s strapon preferences”, Yixing just kept staring, staring at this guy whose name was Sehun. The mere thought of this stranger tearing him open, claiming him as property was brutally arousing, and Yixing suppressed a giggle, making a mental note to have Luhan spend the night later. Among those lewd thoughts, however, was now something else as well, something which he wasn’t used to at all - a light flush of pink to his cheeks when he remembered that this presumably heterosexual stranger had allegedly been looking at him, a strange, tingling sensation in the bottom of his belly at the possibility of accidentally crossing paths with him. He did for some reason wonder what the other was doing, what courses he was taking, if he had a girlfriend, if he was happy. He wondered why a guy like him would ever spare a glance at Yixing who was but an anonymous foreigner amongst others. Maybe Liu and Jinjing had just been mistaken, he thought for a brief moment which turned incomplete - maybe it was Luhan whom the stranger had been looking at, after all, Luhan who was prettier than most, who had even the straightest of guys question their own sexuality.

 

Dropping his cute smile, Yixing tried not to pout. While he himself had never had any problem with charming whoever it was that he wanted to get temporarily dominated by, he knew that it was just that - he had to charm them, had to convince them. Clingy was what he had to be in order to not get avoided, because he knew all too well that people had a tendency to throw him away, to trample him because of his peculiar character. It was just like that, the way it had been always been and how it would always be, and while Yixing often found himself jealous of the fact that Luhan was different, that Luhan never even had to try, he didn't blame his friend. Lulu was despite being beautiful and loved by all, by Yixing the most, the only one who would never hurt his little Xing. Although he  _did_  bring out the whips and ropes sometimes.

 

With love and gratitude filling his chest, a feeling of insufficiency simmering in his head, and hot blood still rushing straight to his crotch, Yixing kept blocking out sounds, only silently staring at the interesting stranger. Not until the whispers of a suddenly panicky Liu hit his eardrums did he snap out of trance, for a split moment considering to tear his gaze away but refraining when the words registered.

 

“Oh shit, he’s looking again. Yixing, stop-”

 

Unavoidably locking eyes with the stranger, he found himself more flustered than expected, because a sudden feeling of getting punched in the stomach was not what he had foreseen at all. While the other had at first sight looked like a fairly regular human being, although a particularly well-sculptured one, Yixing saw now that there were more to him than what usually hid ingrained in the flesh and bones of human bodies. In this stranger, he caught sight of an endless amount of antitheses, contrasts contradictingly forming some sort of well-balanced peace within one perfect body. While the other’s gaze was sharp, piercing Yixing with a force even greater than the one Luhan used while spanking him senseless, it was also soft and for some reason more comforting than even the hardest blow to his neglected erection. The stranger’s previously furrowed eyebrows were now raised in surprise, hinting at a conscious, emotional human being living beneath those layers of impenetrable marble skin, yet it subtracted nothing from the hazardousness and perilous appeal radiating from him.

 

Now letting out shaky breaths while trying hard to rely on the fact that the stranger looked puzzled enough to maybe not notice the dirty thoughts visible through his widely expanded pupils, the almost drooling Yixing nevertheless sent him a smile, for a moment not caring about the colour of his own cheeks. Nevertheless squirming when his smile got responded to by lips that for some reason looked shy, he watched with a pain other than the one he usually enjoyed as the other suddenly stood up and left.

 

The voices of his by now highly amused friends were still muffled when Yixing kept still, his wide eyes stuck on the exit through which the alluring stranger had just left. He didn’t care about much else at this moment - he just wanted to sit there, relishing in the aftertaste of sexual and emotional shock.

 

“Xing, you’re still staring”

 

“Is he drooling?”

 

“Oh my god, he  _is_  drooling!”

 

There was a hand on his shoulder and another one on his thigh, and while a third one was waving in front of his face, none of it mattered as he kept zooming out, obscuring his mind from the outside world. Finally wide awake and curious, Zitao ceased his attempts to drag Yixing back to reality, instead resting his own head against his palms.

 

“I wonder if he likes guys” he said with a pensive voice, bringing a sigh out of Yifan who muttered.

 

“Wouldn’t that be a miracle”

 

The overly excited Jinjing hit the table top with her palm, causing everyone but Yixing to jump.

 

“Shut your bubblegum dumb looking ass the fuck up, Yifan! Don’t be a pessimist!” 

 

“Hey, I’m just saying, geez. It’s not my fault that Yixing has chosen to defy the socially constructed norms fueled by this corrupted, homophobic society in which-”

 

Among the many agitated voices, Luhan silently kept squeezing Yixing’s thigh dangerously close to the blatant erection caused by the indecent fantasies that were going on in the dreaming boy’s head at that very moment.

 

“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly after leaning in closer to his friend, yet with his interesting question managing to catch everyone’s attention. Everyone’s but Yixing’s, that was.

 

“He’s probably imagining that guy balls deep in him” Zitao who had just stolen a piece of bread from Yifan mumbled with his mouth stuffed and chewing loudly, causing Luhan to sport an offended expression and pull Yixing closer to him in a manner that was more than overdramatic.

 

“Hey, I’m the only one who’s allowed!”

 

“Oh, come one, Lu“ Jinjing began, rolling her eyes. “You know he’s an even bigger slut than you are. Tell me, how many of those gross threesomes have you guys had since you got here?”

 

Luhan gasped, covering the ears of Yixing who in that moment looked more like an innocent child than the grown up satyromaniac who had in two days been fucked thrice by his best friend and many times more by others.

 

“ _Our_ sex life is none of _your_ business, Jin!”

 

“It’s true, though” Zitao added in, still chewing loudly beside Yifan who looked ready to sink though the earth and die. Why he was still there was an unsolvable mystery, even to himself. Luhan continued, not even sure anymore who to argue with seeing as he was getting ganged up on.

 

“It’s not true!”

 

“It is!”

 

“ _It’s no_ -”

 

“Lu, he already lets his landlord fuck him instead of paying. If that’s not slutty, then you didn’t get caught sucking Baek’s dick in the ladies room yesterday”

 

Ready to for what seemed like the thousandth time that day attack Jinjing who had in only twenty minutes become his greatest enemy, Luhan let his hands fall from Yixing’s ears and withdrew, pulling up his sleeves as he did. 

 

“Calm down, Lu, he doesn’t even care” Liu said in a half-hearted attempt to stop her friends from murdering each other. “Look, he’s still staring at him through the window”

 

Pausing midway around the table, Luhan did despite the relentless annoyance towards his slut-shaming enemy return to his seat, muttering vile profanities while in defeat admitting that homicide was not on his list of chores that day. Across from him, Zitao had begun to openly discuss the possible details of Yixing’s lewd fantasies involving the stranger whose name was Sehun, not yet aware of that the subject of his monologue had started mumbling to himself.

 

“I wonder what courses he’s taking” Yixing suddenly let out, barely audible, yet taking everyone by surprise by showing signs of sentience. Silence followed, along with amused as well as worried glances. Luhan went back to claiming his thigh.

 

“He actually thought about something else than the guy’s dick” Zitao let out quietly after a while, completely shocked and with a mouth slighly agape looking as if he could not believe his ears. Yifan rolled his eyes but said nothing, with a deep scowl wondering why he still associated with these psychopaths. Hitting the back of his friend’s head hard, earning a loud whine and a “ _What did I do now?_ ” in response, he rose to his feet and left.

 

Yixing said no more and while everyone knew that there was no response to squeeze out of him, Luhan kept trying, pressing himself closer against him where they sat. Not only was he feeling just a tiny bit jealous, but he also knew that his sensitive friend would end up ultimately heartbroken if he actually let himself fall for some local stranger. The planned duration of their exchange studies was limited, after all, only lasting for a few months, and while Yixing knew this perfectly well, his awareness did nothing to ease Luhan’s sudden worry. His friend was an epitome for and the perfect embodiment of a certain latin phrase, and it along with his mental instability had caused trouble in the past.

 

“You’re digging your own grave, Xing” Luhan muttered bitterly yet softly into his ear, trying to ignore the shrill sound of Jinjing squealing in excitement at her friend’s assumed infatuation. Next to him, Liu sighed audibly, knowing as well him that this would not end well, yet nevertheless adapting to the inevitable tragedy which would surely come to characterize the end of Yixing's stay there. In that moment handing all of her responsibility for the troubled one's wellbeing over to the only one who still had the energy to care, she sighed again and stated the obvious.

 

“Look at him, he still doesn’t care” 

 

“Yixing fell in love during his first week, how pathetic is that” Jinjing scoffed as if she had not acted enthusiastic only seconds ago, but Luhan found himself too exhausted to physically fight her anymore.

 

“Just stop being mean to him, will you, please”

 

Jinjing raised an eyebrow as she leaned back into her chair before responding, slurping the last of her soda while getting ready to leave.

 

“Says the one who strangles him every friday”

 

“It’s called platonic BDSM, Jin, you wouldn’t understand” Luhan muttered in response while rolling his eyes despite knowing that Jinjing did in fact have a point.

 

Rejoining the conversation after minutes of grumpiness, courtesy of Yifan’s blow and sudden departure from the cafeteria, Zitao raised his voice, blurting out what everyone already knew.

 

“There’s nothing platonic about your tiny dick in Yixing’s ass, Lu” 

 

Luhan turned to him, a fire in his gaze caused by his sensibility towards the subject of his relationship with Yixing, and by the time he uttered the words “Fuck you”, the dysfunctional friends’ loud quarrelling had already took off again.

 

Still lost in his own mind, in the memory of that certain stranger who had so unexpectedly returned his smile, Yixing kept quiet, unaware of anything that was going on around him. While a part of him knew that he shouldn’t grow attached to people - to strangers whom he had not spoken to or even seen before least of all, his last doctor had once told him - he had because of his emotional masochism always had a tendency to whisk away all reasonable thoughts as nonsense. Now recalling the other’s name, he shut his eyes and smiled. The image of that person would be stuck in his mind forever, because even if he ended up never seeing him again, how would he be able to forget someone who had without even trying managed to create such an impact?

 

Not registering the touch of familiar fingers travelling up his thighs, the voice of his best friend desperate to gain his attention, Yixing kept his eyelids resting and repeated the name, over and over again, creating a beautiful mantra too dangerous to be pronounced.

 

_Sehun..._

 

_Sehun..._

 

_Sehun..._

 

(weeks later)

 

“Sehun…”

 

“Hm?”

 

Looking up at the sound of Yixing’s voice echoing through the almost empty library, Sehun frowned automatically. Not because he wanted to, but because the undeniable uncomfortableness floating in the air between them like some poisonous gas had his face contort without him wanting to. He had been sitting there for hours with the other, for once not whispering instead of studying, and while it should have felt refreshing, it didn’t. While Yixing had when they met earlier still hugged him like he used to, it had been somewhat stiff, not as warm nor surprisingly comforting as usual - clinging for just a second before grabbing a rigid arm instead of the hand which Sehun had by now grown so used to having stolen, the other had simply dragged him inside, smiling awkwardly without mentioning yesterday’s incident. More than twentyfour hours had now passed since Sehun had fucked Yixing hard and raw against the stained couch back at the other’s apartment, yet he had not had the courage to talk about it yet. Not that he knew what to say, anyway.

 

Despite being the one who had just broken the silence, Yixing did now not meet Sehun’s questioning gaze as he just sat there with something which looked like a distorted version of a smile stuck on his sad lips. He kept opening his mouth only to shut it again repeatedly, stuttering a few times as if he wasn’t sure whether to ask or not.

 

“Are we okay?” The words were pronounced quietly once he uttered them, his accent unusually noticeable as if his nervousness had brought him a step back in learning. Looking up, he finally met eyes with Sehun, although only repeating the question which needed no explanation. “Are we?”

 

Sehun trembled, breaking the brief eyecontact only to stare at his book while thinking. While the letters in front of had been clearly visible only seconds ago, they were now blurred, blending together on the dry, yellowish paper. He knew that they were still there but he could not help but distress - complicated sentences had always been his escape in difficult situations.

 

Biting the insides of his cheeks which were sore from doing that all day, he searched his aching mind for a response, struggling. He had to answer the question, he really did, because not only did he feel bad about acting detached towards Yixing whose only fault lied in innocently asking to be fucked, but he also knew that the answer was ridiculously simple - yes, they were okay. At least he wanted them to be.

 

Fucking just for the sake of sexual frustration should have been something easy, not followed by hours of desperately trying to figure out his own emotions. Yet, Sehun had found himself in bed all day, buried beneath the comforter while childlishly ignoring Jongin’s somewhat worried, somewhat curious inquiring. What happened between him and Yixing had been entirely platonic, yet he had not been able to get it off his mind.

 

Finally managing to gather his voice, he turned back to face the one whose body he had now been inside, trying to smile but probably failing. He wasn’t sure, just like he wasn’t sure whether the words he were about to pronounce were competely true.

 

“I’m fine” he sighed before inhaling again, relieved to find the syllables spill from his tongue easier than expected. “You?”

 

Yixing just hummed at first, his gaze still fluttering between Sehun and everything else. The smile on his lips did, however, seem to grow just a little bit wider, hinting at genuineness.

 

“I’m okay”

 

A few seconds was all that was needed for Sehun’s chest to feel at least partly less heavy, and by the time silence felt more uncomfortable than stiff words, he was actually returning the smile. Now looking straight into Yixing’s eyes which had regained their usual sparkliness, he did as an act of unneeded reconciliation reach out to with his palm stroke the other’s cheek, lingering just a bit too long. It was a pleasant yet dangerous act, but how could he refrain when his touch seemed to be the sole reason for Yixing’s smile to fully bloom?

 

Soon turning his gaze back to the important notes and paragraphs when eyecontact together with the sudden change of atmosphere became overwhelming, he kept his smile on and sighed. It was a happy sigh, a relieved one, and though he didn’t know exactly what the feeling was or why it had come so easily after hours of painful silence, he didn’t care to ponder over it. Instead blindly grabbing one of the two mugs of take-away coffee, knowing that it didn’t matter which one belonged to whom, he listened peacefully as Yixing scribbled down foreign words into his torn notepad while humming. The peace didn’t last nearly as long enough as he had hoped, however.

 

“You have a big dick, by the way” the other suddenly said as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say, and Sehun choked on his coffee. With a clenched fist hitting his own chest repeatedly in attempts to stop the violent coughing from getting them kicked out of the library, the bitterness of pesticide-sprayed coffee beans doing nothing to help him, Sehun stared with teary eyes at Yixing who was still smiling cutely, still looking nowhere but at his notes.

 

“I’m gla-” He kept coughing, looking down and wondering if the words pronounced matter-of-factly had in fact been an intentional murder attempt, “-glad, tha- thanks”

 

Eventually managing to get those few drops of liquid death out of his lungs, he turned to Yixing and glared only to find him already looking, still mocking him with that ridiculously deep dimple, and although his usual self would have returned to his previous state of awkwardness by what the other had just said, he could now not help but chuckle lightly at the absurdity of this sudden situation. Not at least when Yixing had begun to giggle like a child.

 

With hands pressed against mouths trying to suppress their inappropriate laughters but failing, by no means being able to withhold it, the two friends soon found themselves in tears, managing to stop only when a not-so amused librarian turned up to hush them angrily. While everything had seemed hopeless only hours ago, with stolen glances in the cafeteria hinting at lost friendship, Sehun now felt fine, better than ever. While he knew that the incident would still haunt his mind later, that the memory of Yixing bent over the couch would have him binge smoke several packages of cigarettes in a mix between stress and unwanted arousal, he tried to linger in this moment, tried to hold onto this undefined feeling. He knew that this was still a complicated matter, not at all untangled by his sudden awareness of Yixing’s sexually masochistic side, but the sight of the other gasping for air beside him had him drop all worries for just a while. Instead of distressing now only relishing in the scent of tobacco and full-leaf brewed tea as the other attacked him in a hug, Sehun did for the first time let his fingers find their way through soft strands of hair, only pulling pack when the hopelessly clumsy Yixing managed to fall of the chair.

 

They left together that afternoon just like they had done almost everyday for weeks, and while Sehun still declined Yixing’s kind offers to spend the night, no feelings seemed to get hurt. They did everything they had used to do, talked about everything they had used to talk about, and just like that, everything had gone back to normal. Just like when after Sehun had seen Yixing with that man, everything was back to normal.

 

Almost.

 

The truth was that he still couldn’t let go of the feeling of his hard, throbbing cock inside of Yixing’s clenching ass, and while he had already promised himself that such a thing would never happen again, he did by now seriously doubt his own willpower. Sehun had never been in control of his own life, he shamefully admitted to himself while jerking off in the shower every night before bed, and neither would he be able to control his erection if it ever again met the small palm of Yixing whose adorableness had come to be his drug, the axis of his innocent daydreams and unvirtuous shower thoughts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated <3


	6. Chapter 6

 

After the lecherous event involving a pair of tipsy friends, days did surprisingly enough pass by without any kind of painful incidents. While there was still a part of Sehun - perhaps his defective self-preservation - that had him want to pull back every time Yixing grabbed his hand or snuggled up close, there was ultimately no stopping him doing what was easy. _His body is warmer than mine_ , was what his delusional self liked to think whenever he found himself on the roof of Yixing’s building, buried underneath a layer of blankets which seemed to suspiciously and rapidly only decrease in thickness. A nonexistent  fear of catching a cold was in those many moments of weakness his only excuse to accept shaky fingers in under his shirt, to allow them to travel hungrily but tentatively over usually restricted areas such as ribs and chest. He told himself that he needed warmth, that the snowflakes spread out evenly across their bodies would melt faster the closer their arms and legs entangled, despite the fact that his own limbs weren’t even shivering and despite the fact that Yixing was always colder than him.

 

“How are you always so warm, Sehun? Please share with me”

 

He had heard it many times. The words, the seemingly innocent phrases wrapped in naivité and dumbness, drenched in a longing for something Sehun was neither courageous enough nor willing to give the other just yet, if ever.

 

“Are you sure you won’t spend the night? It’s late and my bed is so cold”

 

He had heard it so many times, seen the disappointment disguised as a smile whenever he declined Yixing’s offer to stay, yet he kept trying to ignore the spark it lit in him by those words, the unwanted yearning caused by Yixing’s plump lips asking him to come even closer, to share his warmth beneath a duvet instead of blankets. While he wasn’t entirely sure what Yixing’s intentions were, he knew even less what his own being longed for - all he knew was that he had started to feel possessive and more attached to the other than he had initially expected, and that it scared him.

 

Although the reason for and the nature of his possessiveness remained unsung, he didn’t care to suppress it, and while he was still too deep in denial to act it out - daydreams involving dragging a giggling Yixing away from Luhan who kept running his hands all over the apparently masochistic boy - it had become a part of him, something he was not able to look away from anymore. He _knew_ how much Yixing had come to mean to him, what the shy yet eager hands and stolen glances between them hinted at, yet he pretended not to. While his heart and crotch had already figured it all out, his mind kept fighting it, violently.

 

Too busy with trying to control his own thoughts to in the corridors and cafeteria notice the part evil, part curious glances sent by Luhan, Sehun kept spending his days separated from Yixing. Night time was their time - even if “nights” often included afternoons and sleepless mornings - and they did furthermore still have their own set of needy friends to please. Yixing still ate with his fellow exchange students, kept letting Luhan whisper things too close without explaining to Sehun what the two of them were, and the latter kept spending time with Jongin, Chanyeol, and occasionally even Baekhyun. It was fine the way things were - it was safe, static - but while Jongin had not yet asked much about his roommate’s sudden abscence, about why his otherwise antisocial friend would nowadays only ever return home after midnight, Sehun still worried. Not knowing whether it was a fear of accidentally revealing his own orientation or an even greater fear of actually realizing that he was close to falling in love, he kept avoiding the topic, even if he was curious to know what had made Jongin so quiet. Maybe it was relief, he thought - maybe Jongin was just too happy that Sehun had finally followed his advice to start socializing to dip his nose into whatever was the cause of his childhood friend’s unusual behaviour, and maybe the small smirk on his lips whenever Sehun sneaked into bed late at night was just the words “I told you so” incarnated. Maybe it was nothing of that, maybe it was, but Sehun did nothing to find out. He would not risk a slip of tongue, especially not when he had managed to keep his innermost secret hidden for over twenty years. In Jongin’s world, Sehun was anything but an experienced homosexual, the latter thought at least, and it was best for things to remain that way.

 

Now heading towards the campus library like he always did after the last lecture, like he had done even before he accidentally made acquaintance with some cute yet madly neurotic exchange student, Sehun forced himself out of reverie before meeting the one who always waited for him there. He wondered for a moment when it had gotten so cold, how the air was allowed to paint his lips blue when the year-end wasn’t even nearing, but did as usual forget the question as soon as another one hit him.

 

“Why are you always so late? I’m freezing out here!” Yixing exclaimed grumpily as usual, cheeks pink and puffy and with a curved cigarette squeezed tightly between shaky fingers. His mittens were gone again, only a day after Sehun had for some reason found them in his own backpack, but the latter had since long stopped worrying. Instead of nagging feeling the other’s cold fingers squeeze his arm as usual, he watched as Yixing let the half-burned cigarette drop from his lips without caring before dragging their four feet towards home. Sehun had grown used to it, he told himself, following the other anywhere, even though he deep inside knew that resignation wasn’t the main reason for for his feet to willingly follow.

 

“Well, it’s your own fault, I don’t make the schedule. You could always wait inside, you know” he responded snarkily to the other’s continued whining about how cold it was, but the remark did as always only make Yixing cling harder to his arm and pout. 

 

“I don’t want inside. I want you”

 

There was a feeling, the same one as every time the other said something like that, but Sehun just turned his face away and hummed. Simply ignoring the warmth travelling through their thick layers of clothing, he let his arm slip sneakily around Yixing’s waist, lingering for just a moment before shoving him away.

 

“Be happy freezing to death, then”

 

Yixing gasped, a thick, white cloud of breath escaping his constantly swollen lips when the light push caused him to slip and trip, able to regain his already poor balance only when Sehun grabbed him by the hand. Lifting his head, he looked at his saviour and sulked, a most sad pout adorning his trembling lips.

 

“I hate you”

 

His eyes were wet but it could have been the cold, because Sehun couldn’t believe that the push had hurt him. Instead of worrying only smirking as if in defense, he nevertheless kept the other’s hand in his, pulling him closer than usual. _He might trip again_ , he thought, and though it wasn’t the reason, it was neither entirely false.

 

“The feeling is mutual” he mumbled into the shorter one’s hair, happy to when he pulled back see that a dimple had replaced Yixing’s pout, crescents replace his shiny eyes. He returned the smile, the cold fire in his chest growing by each pronounced syllable. “I really, really hate you, too”

 

Yixing pouted again and withdrew his hand, but Sehun stole it back and entwined their fingers, in that moment unable to control himself. _He’s shivering, he might catch a cold_ , he thought while continuing to walk, wondering how on earth someone else’s skin could feel so nice despite being cold as ice. He kept smiling but it hurt, so, so much, and he did for one brief, hopeful moment wonder if masochism was contagious. Perhaps being able to enjoy this mysterious pain the same way as Yixing enjoyed getting fucked without mercy would be his rescue, the one reason he needed to not let these feelings bloom into something he couldn’t handle.

 

 

-

 

 

“There’s a party this weekend-”

 

“No”

 

Sehun had a sip of lukewarm tea and frowned. It was bitter, too bitter to be consumed - perhaps Jongin had left the leaves to brew too long.

 

“-and you’re going with us.”

 

“No”

 

Letting his gaze travel to his friend’s neglected textbook in which every word was covered in yellow marker - Jongin always highlighted too much - he had another sip and gagged. Old coffee, definitely old coffee.

 

“Baek’s been getting close with this crazy exchange student, by the way, did you know? Just like you. They were in the woods and apparently they found this abandoned warehouse which is perfect for-”

 

“No”

 

He looked at the coffee and considered. It was disgusting, but maybe the traumatizing taste would help distract him from his friend’s annoying blabbering.

 

“Stop interrupting me, Sehun. Anyway, are all exchange students crazy? I mean, yours doesn't look _that_  crazy, just a bit shy honestly, but Baek said that he was born with this lump in his brain and that he once tried to ki-”

 

“No”

 

Forcing himself to have one last sip while completely drowning Jongin’s words in thoughts, he spit the black liquid back into the mug and shivered. Undrinkable. Turning back to his own book in a desperate attempt to ignore his roommate, he squinted only to find the printed words stare back at him. They were scoffing - Sartre really did get on his nerves sometimes. Maybe he was just developing synesthesia. No, probably just schizophrenia.

 

“Can you stop it? Whatever, listen - the party is on Friday and apparently they invited half the city so we’re definitely gonna get you laid this ti-”

 

Suddenly hitting the kitchen table with his book, causing Jongin to flinch and stare because of the loud bang, Sehun glared for a moment before responding. Not only was he trying to study, but the mention of sex had something snap inside of him. He didn't want to “get laid” with some hot chick, and neither did he want to converse about “crazy exchange students”. He had already gotten laid, and with a crazy exchange student on top of that. Not that he hadn’t liked it, it had just been slightly traumatizing.

 

“I’m  _not_ going and you're  _not_ getting me laid”

 

Staring in shock, Jongin remained seated. It was unusual for Sehun to get so visibly agitated - he had since childhood always been good at both suppressing and hiding his emotions - and that was most likely the reason for his roommate’s flustered expression. Violently gathering his books and notepads, too annoyed to care about what fell to the floor, Sehun ignored the words mumbled with an offended yet still annoyingly composed voice.

 

“That’s not very nice, Sehun. You should be nice to me, I’m just trying to get you some good a-”

 

“ _Fuck you._ ”

 

Dropping all of his stuff to the floor, thus leaving his roommate completely tongue-tied, he escaped into the bathroom. He had not been thinking about Yixing for hours and while it had felt more relieving than it should have, there was after Jongin’s unintentional reminder no stopping a wave of mixed feelings from overcoming him - arousal caused by suddenly remembering a certain morning, jealousy caused by remembering a certain text message, and confusion caused by not being able to figure out what the hell was going on inside of his own head.

 

Seating himself on the toilet, he pulled out his phone and sighed. There it was - the message. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, it really shouldn’t have, but Sehun had ever since fucking Yixing spent every night awake with him, up until now. It shouldn’t have hurt, because he knew that Yixing had his own friends, but it did. He had grown so used to having the other to himself that the message had almost caught him red-handed, laid all of his suppressed feelings out to see, and he blessed the fact that no one important had been around to see his disappointment. Sighing again, he let his phone drop the floor, letting himself fall with it.

 

[17:12, Sehun] “ _i’m_ _in the library, where are you? got lost again?_ ”

 

[17:28, Yixing] “ _ _sorry,__ _ _i'm__ _ _with lulu~ see u tomorrow~__ ”

 

Jongin’s offended muttering could still be heard from the kitchen when Sehun kept squirming on the floor, trying to sort out whatever was flooding the inside of his head but in vain. He couldn’t let go of it, he just couldn’t, and while he still pretended to not know what was going on, why his heart felt just a little bit colder everytime he saw Yixing with Luhan, he could at the same time not deny it anymore.

 

“Why, why, why” he mumbled as he heaved himself up, marking each words by pounding his forehead against the hard porcelain of the toilet seat. On the outside, Jongin’s voice went from annoyed to worried, but it was left unnoticed. “ _You’re an idiot, Oh Sehun. A stupid,_ ” bonk, “ _fucking_ ,” bonk, “ _idiot._ ”

 

 

-

 

 

Sobbing heavily as shadows kept approaching, Yixing tried to hug the floor but failed. It was just too big and his arms were just too short, and the tears rolling down his pale cheeks seemed to be drowning him slowly. He choked on spit, pressing his open mouth against the small puddle of drool while trying not to wake Luhan who had arrived the night before.

 

It happened sometimes. He didn't really know why, had never really known why and would probably never know why. It was just the way it was, how it had always been - the walls, swelling and rising above him or sometimes even threatening to cave in, to bury him in a pile of rubble from which he would never be able to escape. He cried out suddenly, the shrillness of his broken voice dragging his sleeping friend out of worried dreams.

 

“Shit, Xing!”

 

It just was like this sometimes, Luhan knew since childhood, and it hurt. Yixing didn't deserve it, had done nothing to deserve it, but life’s lottery wasn’t always fair.

 

“L-L-L-u…”

 

Cradling the floored boy like a mother enveloping her baby in warmth, Luhan comforted him in a way which he had not had to do in weeks, gently stroking his hair which was filled with dust and imaginary bugs.

 

“Shh, baby” he hushed, kissing the shaking one’s tears away in repeated attempts to calm him down. “It’s okay, it’s not real. It’s all in your head, baby, breath”

 

It was a lie, Yixing thought while clutching his friend’s shirt as if his life depended on it, still choking on his own saliva - how could it not be real when he saw it so clearly, felt it so closely? Everyone told him that it was just his imagination - his mother told him so, his friends, even the doctor he had used to visit before his family stopped paying - but he refused to understand. Just because it’s in his head doesn't mean that it’s any less real.

 

“F-f-fuck me, L-Lu…”

 

“Shh, baby…”

 

It was okay, though, he thought after a second. Luhan would protect him now, from the walls and the monsters and his scary landlord who only cared about rent. Luhan wouldn’t understand, but he would help him. He would always. “You shouldn’t have stopped taking your medication” he would say, and Yixing would just giggle and hit him for saying such a thing. He knew that he needed medication, because people had always told him so, but he didn't want to. One time late at night, maybe in a dream - he couldn't really remember - a man had told him that those white, oval pills was in fact spider eggs wrapped in bitter sugar, and that was enough reason for him to want to stay away from them. The man had been tall and Yixing hadn't been able to see his face, because it had been wrapped tightly with some sort of strange, sheer but at the same time opaque foil, but Yixing had for some reason trusted him. That had been the day on which he stopped eating spider eggs, and eggs overall. He did sometimes draw eggs in his notepad, though.

 

“P-p-please, Lu…”

 

“Okay, baby…”

 

Eventually melting into Luhan, finally able to calm down, Yixing forgot all about night time terrors. It was okay, he thought while sniffling, watching as the walls began to change back into their original shape and colour. It was okay, he told himself, shutting his eyes and letting his hands find their way to Luhan’s neck when the other carried him to the bed. It was okay, even if he was still just a little bit sad that it was Luhan that was touching him right now and not Sehun.

 

Seeking refuge in the pain caused by his friend entering him, he kept his eyes shut and tried to focus on it. The monsters were fading slowly and he realized that it all just been a dream following him out of sleep, but it was still scary. It had always been scary, even if he knew that it was all in his head, that his brain was just a little bit different than others’.

 

_Sehun..._

 

_Sehun..._

 

_Sehun..._

 

Finally smiling, he drifted into dreamland with Luhan still inside of him, the latter pushing and pulling in attempts to distract the troubled boy. Tomorrow, everything would be fine. Tomorrow, Yixing would have forgotten everything. Tomorrow, he would even get to see Sehun again.

 

 

_-_

 

 

_See you tomorrow..._

 

“Liar” Sehun muttered as he lit another cigarette, cursing himself for letting some exchange student affect him this much. It had been two days since that message, yet Yixing was still to show up, even today. “With Lulu… What kind of a name is Lulu…”

 

Almost screaming in frustration when a particularly large snowflake landed on his poorly lit cigarette, causing the fire to die, he tossed the stick away and sulked. He had not cared to message Yixing even on the third day without seeing him, not really knowing why but still surprised by his own childish bitterness, and the fact that the other had not even been at his usual table in the cafeteria did nothing to soothe his annoyance. While he knew that there was probably a valid reason for Yixing’s absence - maybe he had got murdered by Luhan who had not been there either - he still couldn't help but feel bad for himself. The other had, after all, forced his way into his life, for some reason demanding his attention only to abandon him like this. Sehun kept muttering, now in reference to himself.

 

“Stupid idiot…”

 

Many hours had passed since the last lecture and darkness had as always arrived early. Watching as tired students dragged their feet through thick snow, some of them clinging to each other in order to avoid slipping on the hidden ice, he cringed but felt his mood brighten when his phone suddenly vibrated.

 

[19:58, Jongin] “ _hey bitch when are you home?_ ”

 

Sehun stared at Jongin’s message and wanted to roll his eyes at himself for getting so excited. He knew that he could simply call Yixing if he wanted to, but pride was part of him and he did furthermore see this as his opportunity to sort out his feelings. While he knew that love or whatever ridiculous thing his confused thoughts hinted at wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he also knew that it was something fleeting and unnecessary, something to avoid at all cost. It had been his philosophy for years, and nothing would change it, not even someone as sweet as Yixing. He cringed again.

 

[20:02, Sehun] “ _ _soon,__ _ _i'm__ _ _leaving campus now__ ”

 

[20:03, Jongin] “ _good_ ”

 

[20:04, Jongin] “ _we're out of food btw_ ”

 

[20:04, Jongin] “ _i want pizza_ ”

 

Steering his feet towards the grocery store, he didn't even protest Jongin’s written demand. He just walked steadily, hiding his face behind a ridiculously large scarf which Yixing had lended him a week ago, and the only thing he let his mind process was a promise - he would not fall for anyone, especially not someone whom he had seen split open by another, someone who had later asked him to do the same thing, someone who would probably not even stay in this country for long. He didn't blame Yixing for anything - he knew that he could never - but he would not let himself fall for him either. He refused.

 

 

-

 

 

“Honey, I’m home” Sehun shouted sarcastically as he slammed the door shut, kicking his shoes off without caring where they ended up. “I hope you’ve missed me because I brought you your fucking pi-”

 

Jumping violently while letting out a sudden shriek when he switched the lights on, he dropped the grocery bag to the floor, causing all of its content roll in different directions. There, on the bed, on his and Jongin’s bed, someone was sitting, curled up into a ball and with arms wrapped tightly around lean legs.

 

“Boo”

 

Yixing was just sitting there with a cute smile on his lips and Sehun stared with wide eyes, placing a hand on his chest as if it would end the pain following the minor heart attack he just suffered. 

 

“ _What the hell, Yixing, for fuck sake._ ”

 

For a moment not caring about what curses he might spit out, he sent the guilty one the most evil look he could manage, still too shocked to actually realize that this man - the one who had only half an hour ago been the reason for bitter thoughts - was for some reason in his apartment, days after he had last seen or even contacted him. Yixing just kept smiling cutely, not even slightly pouting despite the agitated words, and the sight did for some strange reason have Sehun calm down in just a minute. It wasn’t that he was easily scared or anything - he had just not expected to find someone on his bed at this hour, completely surrounded by darkness.

 

“You really want me to die, don’t you” he muttered when the shock had subsided, however still glaring and with a hand still on his chest. Yixing furrowed his eyebrows but in a funny way, staring back.

 

“I thought you wanted to die”

 

Rolling his eyes at the cheeky comment, Sehun considered clearing the floor of wild groceries but couldn’t bring himself to look away. He needed an explanation, because even if he rarely questioned the other's highly unpredictable actions anymore, this was much more than he was used to. Yixing had been gone for days and now he was just sitting there, smiling, on a bed that wasn't his.

 

“What are you doing here?” Sehun asked, almost mumbling in order to clear his voice of annoyance. He was still a bit bitter at the other for not showing up for three days, but he didn’t want it to show it - partly because he knew that he didn’t have the right to hoard any bad feelings, but mostly because of the undeniable fact that Yixing’s sudden presence had his heart beat just a little bit faster in joy. He kept staring at the other, searching for answers in those beauti- wide eyes of his, and Yixing chirped a response with a voice much brighter than expected.

 

“Jongin let me in”

 

Raising both eyebrows at the insufficient answer, Sehun looked around in search of his roommate, suddenly realizing that Jongin had not come to greet him yet. He found it more than a bit strange - was someone perhaps playing a prank on him. Turning back to Yixing, eyebrows still raised and gaze questioning, he watched the other bite his lower lips as if he didn’t really want to explain.

 

“...I pressed the ding dong-thing” he began and Sehun smiled automatically at his ability to come up with new words, “and he let me in. He had to leave though but he said that you were coming home soon, so he told me I could wait inside” He furrowed his eyebrows again, eyes averting as he let go of his legs and fiddled with his fingers. “He kept smiling at me, he kind of looked like a psychopath. It was really creepy”

 

He shivered visibly and Sehun could despite the still unsatisfactory explanation not help but chuckle at the other’s expression, however worried about his two friends crossing paths. Jongin could be a bit much sometimes, perhaps a bit too much for Yixing who was in more ways than one the complete opposite of him, and he would furthermore shower Sehun with questions later. The latter knew it, just as much as he knew that this was very unlike his roommate - Jongin was usually not the one to suddenly disappear, at least not after asking to be brought pizza.

 

A bit unsettled by this situation, Sehun nevertheless opted to leave the mystery of his roommate for later. He took a step closer to the bed, eyes locked at Yixing who looked up with a contorted smile hinting at a sudden fear for getting kicked out.

 

“But why?” he asked, not sure why it came out so faint. Lifting his head, Yixing met his gaze, worried eyes peeking out at him through a fringe so messy that it looked like it hadn’t been brushed for days.

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why did you come here?”

 

Yixing’s face fell a bit at the sound of that question, even though there was at this point nothing but curiosity in Sehun’s voice.

 

“Do I need a reason?” he asked shakily before Sehun had time to rephrase, his voice barely a whisper, and by the time he lowered his head, Sehun had forgotten all about the past three days of bitter solitude. He felt bad now, almost hated himself for blaming Yixing for his own misery and for causing that sad look on his downturned face, but he wasn’t sure what to do now, how to handle this. He knew that there had to be a reason for what was going on, for the other’s mysterious absence and for him to suddenly turn up here, but seeing as he seemed unwilling to explain, Sehun decided to keep his questions unuttered for the time being. Wanting to take a step even closer but refraining, knowing that he would probably not be able to keep himself from touching Yixing’s frowning face, he just smiled instead, secretly overjoyed about having his friend back.

 

“I guess you don’t need a reason” he said, turning away to hide his expression before Yixing could look up and see it. Not even the mess of groceries on the floor could stop his suddenly cracking smile now, and while he knew that there was no real reason for his previous surprise to explode into a firework of pleasant feelings, he still didn’t stop it. Picking up the now half-frozen pizza which had been meant for him and Jongin, he turned back to Yixing and waved it in front of him. “I guess you’re gonna have to share this with me, then”

 

 

-

 

 

Several tights hugs and an unexpected peck on the cheek later - Yixing seemed to have let out three days of neglected skinship at once - Sehun found himself alone in the kitchen, preparing the food with a violent blush still on his face. Yixing had never kissed him before and while he shouldn’t have been surprised, he had still escaped faster than a ray of light, leaving the overly happy other on the bed. Now inhaling deeply as he tried to keep his hands for shaking, he shut his eyes for a moment in order to calm down.

 

It felt strange. Not only had Sehun been unable to dampen the part-nauseous, part-pleasant feeling caused by fucking Yixing senseless a while ago, but he also found himself clueless as to why it felt so good having the other there, right in his own home. They had not talked for three days and while he still wondered why, why the usually clingy Yixing had not cared to show up at campus or even call him, the only thing filling his mind at that moment was anticipation mixed with fear. He knew that he would not fuck Yixing tonight - he had promised himself that it wouldn’t happen again - but the mere thought of that slight possibility had his insides turn into hot soup.

 

Reentering the room after for the fifth time making sure that the oven was set on the right temperature - he had only wanted an excuse to stay in the kitchen - Sehun could despite the mixed feelings conquering his body not help but smile at the sight of Yixing still sitting the bed, looking around as if searching for something.

 

“Where’s your bed?” Yixing asked suddenly, eyes narrowed in a rather comical manner. Pausing his steps towards the bed for just a split second, Sehun raised an amused eyebrow and chuckled.

 

“You’re sitting on it” he said while pointing, seating himself next to the other whose contemplating expression turned surprised. “You’ve never seen a bed before?”

 

There was no response or even eye contact as Yixing put his palm against the mattress, stroking it and staring at it with his mouth hanging open. There was something in his eyes, a kind of distant yet present sadness hiding behind dark irises, and while Sehun did for a brief moment wonder if the other had suddenly suffered a cerebral haemorrhage, the explanation for his surprise came soon.

 

“You share with Jongin?” he asked with a quiet voice and Sehun didn’t know what to make of that question. He had always shared with Jongin, had never thought of it as weird. Sure, there had been awkward moments in which they had accidentally woken up with their sleepy boners pressing uncomfortably against each other, but those had just been unfortunate accidents. Two friends sharing a bed wasn’t a big deal, Sehun repeated in his mind while staring in confusion at Yixing’s stiff expression, quite ironically so seeing as he had several times declined Yixing’s offer to stay the night in fear of might happen.

 

“Uhm, yeah” he mumbled, too scared to consider the possibility of the other being jealous. “It’s pretty small but we’re close so it doesn’t really matter. We can’t fit another bed in here, anyway”

 

The look on Yixing’s face remained, and it wasn’t until now that Sehun noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes, the sickly grey colour on his usually puffy, pink cheeks. Perhaps the other had in fact been ill these past few days, unable to or even scared to call Sehun - perhaps he had even been waiting for Sehun to come over. Now frowning, the latter didn’t stop his hand from finding Yixing’s, squeezing for the sole reason of his friend suddenly looking so miserable. He wanted to wipe that sickness and sadness off of his face, wanted to make the dimple reappear, but before he could even wonder whether to comfort him or ask about what happened, Yixing squeezed his hand back harder than what was necessary and opened his mouth.

 

“Are we close?” he asked quietly without looking up, and Sehun froze for just a second. The hand in his was cold and pale and while the all too tight grasp hurt a bit, he didn’t want to pull back like he usually did whenever his feelings threatened to escape the small, chained chest they had been restricted to. Not even knowing whether to smile or not, he just answered shortly, hoping that his voice wouldn’t reveal his sudden nervousness.

 

“I guess we are”

 

It took, despite the unintentional coldness in Sehun’s voice, only a few moments before Yixing’s lips formed a small smile. Maybe he hadn’t heard the uncertainty and fear spilling from Sehun’s lips in form of stiffly pronounced words, maybe he just didn’t care. Finally looking up, he let his eyes travel carefully between both of Sehun's, his lips almost trembling when he asked for something he had up until now been denied.

 

“Can I share with you tonight, then?”

 

 

_soon_

 

 

“ _More._ ”

  
Letting his fingernails dig deeper into Yixing’s already marred hips, Sehun suppressed a moan and buried his face in the messy mop of hair in front of him. He wasn’t even sure how it had happened - all he remembered clearly before snapping what a hand against his thigh, shy fingers traveling north. The oven was probably on fire by now but it didn’t matter, not when Yixing was moaning so beautifully, clenching so tightly.

 

“ _Grab my neck_ ”

 

Not even questioning it, Sehun obliged, wanting nothing more than to follow the panted words that were soaked in such neediness. With one hand pulling the other’s disheveled hair from behind, the other wrapped around a thin neck, he kept pressing inside, his cock aching and screaming out songs of chaotic pleasure. Yixing’s whole body trembled, his hands shaking when they desperately tried to grab the wall, and while the strangled noises he let out made him sound more like a dying animal than a human being, Sehun didn’t stop. It was nearly overwhelming, the way choked, distorted versions of the words “more”, “harder”, and “deeper” kept bouncing between the walls, echoing through the hallway and kitchen, making the walls around them vibrate. The neighbors could probably hear them, but none of them cared.

 

With skin prickling and eyes rolling back, he kept thrusting and pulling, having Yixing slam his already bruised forehead into the wall everytime his spot got hit too hard, despite being held tightly by the neck. Pounding hips kept crashing into arched ones, the sound of cracking mixing with strangled moans and whimpers, and though only one of them could move freely, their rhythms matched perfectly. It was the most wonderful thing, the way Sehun could feel the other’s pulse around him when he clenched, the way his tense neck still felt so soft and smooth against Sehun’s fingers. Yixing’s heart kept beating faster and faster and while his untouched member was leaking seed onto the wall against which he was pressed, he let out loud, gurgling whines in protest everytime Sehun reached to stroke it.

 

Not worrying about anything, not even about the most obvious risk of Jongin returning home, Sehun threw his head back and kept going, the small flame in him now blazed up into a wildfire even more ravenous than last time. He let go of Yixing’s neck, let his hands find their way around the smaller fram and back, pausing at ribs and grabbing. Violent coughs emerged from the still restrained body as nails raked against soft skin, the sound of Yixing gasping for air making up for Sehun’s lack of verbalization, and while Sehun should have cared to at least speed things up, he was in that moment too deep in tight flesh to focus on anything else than their connected bodies. The shivering figure pinned against the wall demanded his full attention, so worrying about getting caught wasn’t even an option - no, Yixing had demanded his attention ever since they met, and now was only time Sehun could fully accommodate those needs.

 

“ _Do it again._ ”

 

Once again pulling Yixing’s head back by the hair while leaning forward, panting right into the mewling one’s ear, he found himself dangerously close to coming. He didn’t kiss him, didn’t even taste his tainted skin - not because he in that moment didn’t want to, but because it still felt wrong, forbidden. They were friends, after all, just like they had said before. Instead grabbing the other’s neck one last time, too dizzy to even get surprised by how easily he did it after years of safe, sane, vanilla sex, he pressed inside deeper than ever only to pull out and crash into him again, repeatedly and a constantly increasing speed.

 

Incoherent sentences left Yixing’s lips, resembling sobs rather than words, when Sehun let go of his neck again and sent him over the edge, letting himself following close behind. It was chaotic yet harmonized, because although electric shockwaves went through their bodies unrhythmically, they still fell back into the bed together, Sehun still inside and with his arms wrapped tightly around the smaller body, just like last time. Sehun knew that he would regret doing this again, that frustration and rage towards himself would tickle his every limb as soon as he came down from the high following his orgasm, but he didn’t care, not now. Not when Yixing turned around in his arms and giggled, smiling cutely as if nothing inappropriate had ever happened. For just a moment, Sehun didn’t want to care.

 

 

_later_

 

 

“Sehun..?”

 

“Hm..?”

 

“Do you believe in monsters?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“If everything that exists is real, then shouldn’t that mean that our dreams are real as well?”

 

“Just sleep already, Yixing.”

 

“Okay.”

 

…

 

“Sehun..?”

 

“What?”

 

_I think I’m in love with you._

 

“Nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for leaving kudos! ♥


	7. Chapter 7

 

Sehun wanted to throw up. The feeling of bare limbs intertwining with his own should have felt nice, as should the small hand on hist chest and the smooth leg resting heavily over his naked crotch. Skinship was something he should have grown used to by now, not only by a usually clothed Yixing but also because of an often drunk Jongin who wasn’t particularly keen on sleeping dressed. He shouldn’t have felt nauseous, but then again did he have a good reason to. Or rather, an excuse.

 

Wondering if violent sex or late night whispering about monsters could cause hangovers, he groaned unintentionally but didn’t have the heart to pry Yixing’s limbs away from his own. He looked so calm, the one he had pounded into only hours ago, so untroubled lying there with shiny drool wetting his all too plump lips and with thick eyelashes resting over pale, swollen eyelids.

 

Sehun had never really seen Yixing from such a short distance before, had at least not watched him up close. There were so many details, so many tiny flaws and perfect irregularities that had remained unnoticed until now, and it somehow helped him calm his anguish, to take his mind off whatever places his hands and dick had been last night. Yixing was beautiful - that much was safe to say and Sehun wouldn’t deny it even if he had wanted to - and although he wasn’t innocent when watched through the glasses of society which teaches you to fear sex, he certainly looked so.

 

Letting out a sigh, causing the slow heaving of his chest to shiver the sleeping one awake, Sehun tried to let it go. He didn’t have the right to throw up on that pretty face which was pouting cutely even when asleep - he had despite the other’s intrusiveness brought this fiasco of a friendship upon himself, and there was furthermore no way to rewind time.

 

“‘Morning,” Yixing mumbled, his lips curling on the second his eyes fluttered open. Sehun only hummed drowsily in response, too busy with wondering what will happen now to stop himself from smiling out of politeness, yet too weak to suppress the sudden calmness spreading through his body. While it was true that Yixing’s bizarre indifference was part of the whole frustration he felt towards his entire situation, the casual fuckbuddy-relationship they were close to forming, it was also the reason for this to feel at least a bit okay. For the time being.

 

Swallowing the remains of his nausea, he pondered on whether to slink out of the other’s tight grasp on him or not. The mix between warmth and discomfort had shudders go through his limbs but although he wanted to escape like last time, he knew that he couldn’t. Not that his heart would have let him, anyway - not when it beat a little bit faster at the mere thought of leaving Yixing disappointed, just as it did every time bare skin swept over his own, causing it to prickle pleasantly. He knew that he couldn’t escape this time so instead, he just remained still, forcing a smile which in the end came out more genuine than expected.

 

“You look like you didn't sleep at all,” he mumbled when Yixing kept quiet. The bags beneath the other’s eyes were darker than the formless mass which had been locked away in Sehun’s mind, the vibrations of their high-pitched screams reverberating through nothing. He kept smiling but it suddenly hurt, because as the smaller one shifted closer, the blue and purple marks testifying last night’s event got illuminated by a bleak ray of sunlight. Yixing squeezed his eyes shut again and yawned, only to grin cutely as if Sehun had not painted his thin neck with rough fingers.

 

“What if I didn't?” he asked cheekily as his fingers sailed across the chest against which he was resting, eyes still shut. They were so close in distance, the boys who had just fucked casually for the second time, and although they had been that before, it was the lack of cold blankets and the brushing of hard nipples against Sehun’s side that made it feel so much different. Dried cum still coloured Yixing’s stomach and thighs, creating white flakes as it rubbed off against the sheets once bought by Jongin’s charitable mother, and although Sehun should have worried about the stained wall, he got lost in the sleepy face before him.

 

There was a sudden urge, one that felt dangerous without any clear-cut reason. It would have been so easy to just lean down and capture those lips, to suck and pull while doing whatever had happened last night all over again. There was nothing to hate about that pouty face no matter how much Sehun wanted to, no matter how much he felt like locking Yixing out and resume his old, boring life devoid of any threats to his self-chosen aromanticism. He didn’t like complicated, didn’t want complicated, yet he found himself wanting to kiss his own friend. A friend whom he had happened to fuck twice, one whose obviously close bond to a certain Luhan caused his mouth to foam with jealousy and longing. He wanted to classify whatever Yixing did to him as aesthetic attraction* only, but since he had already silently accepted that there was something more going on, the step from something distinctly sexual to more than sexual wasn’t big. He was already in love, yet he wasn’t. He refused to believe it.

 

(a/n: aesthetic attraction = an interest or desire to look at someone and appreciate their appearance, but which isn’t necessarily sexual or romantic.)

 

When Yixing opened his eyes, his puffy eyelids and curling lips looking sweeter than any sugary treat Sehun had ever enjoyed, the latter felt his defence mechanisms falter. A leg was still thrown over his crotch and fingers were still tracing along the lines of his chest and stomach, and that was what for one risky moment caused him to let his guard down. Raising his hand to stroke the other’s temple, he did for one moment wonder if Yixing would kiss him back if given the chance to.

 

Inhaling deeply, Sehun watched the spark in those puffy grow more intense when he pulled him closer than necessary, burying his fingers in messy hair as he stroked the back of his head. Hearts seemed to beat just a little bit heavier as Yixing’s lips pressed involuntarily against a chest which kept heaving with a pace strangely steady given the circumstances, but before Sehun had time to do anything more stupid, a drowsy, all too familiar moan filled the space around them. He turned around to face the couch, immediately pushing Yixing off of him.

 

“Good morning, fuckface. Hi, Yixing,” his roommate mumbled as he heaved himself up and walked naked through the room, his half-closed eyes looking anywhere but at the two friends. Sehun choked on spit. He wanted to die.

 

It was safe to say that breakfast was awkward.

 

-

 

Jongin never mentioned the stains on the wall, but that was surprisingly enough not the only thing in Sehun’s favour. While the clothes lying scattered across the room had been the reason for Sehun to have his gaze fixed unanimously on the saggy cereal bathing in lukewarm milk in the bottom of his breakfast bowl, his roommate hadn’t asked him about it. Sure, discarded clothes tossed onto the floor wasn’t strange per se in the small flat which sometimes felt more like a nudist haven, but a naked exchange student sporting a purple neck certainly was. Just because Jongin, Chanyeol and occasionally even Baekhyun did, much to Sehun’s suffering like to walk around in all of their naked glory, didn’t mean that there shouldn’t have been any suspicions regarding sodomy. Yet, Jongin had conversed casually with a shy but happy Yixing over breakfast, asking things about his friends, family and home country. It was uncomfortable, almost absurdly so, but Sehun seemed to have been the only one noticing. The truth was actually that it hadn’t been uncomfortable at all - Sehun, however, liked his suffering. Maybe he was catching onto that emotional masochism which he had secretly longed for, after all, or maybe he just found indulgence in self-pity less painful than pretending to not gag at every occasional mention of the name “Luhan”.

 

He had no right to loath Luhan - yet - but he did. Every time that disgustingly beautiful guy slipped his arm around Yixing’s waist in the cafeteria, every time he leant in closer to peck his cheek, Sehun’s possessiveness rampaged and grew. Yixing never talked about him, had with the only exception being that one text message never even mentioned his best friend before Jongin not so modestly asked what “the deal with Baekhyun and Luhan” was. “Lulu” had never been a topic before and although some - according to Jongin - “juicy details” had been spat out over breakfast by Yixing who apparently enjoyed mundane gossip as much as Jongin, Sehun hadn’t been able to swallow his jealousy. Maybe it was because of his delusional conviction that it wasn’t romantic or sexual jealousy that simmered beneath his ribs, near his heart, meaning that Luhan fucking Baekhyun or whatever way they chose to roll was no reason for him to drop his dislike. He wanted Yixing to himself, that much was true, yet he refused to show it or even acknowledge why. He wanted Yixing to himself in spite of his own aromantic delusions, but maybe Yixing wasn’t his to claim, be it as a best friend or something else. Maybe, Yixing’s fingers finding his own and fiddling whenever they had the chance to was just out of mere boredom, something he did to everyone. Maybe, Sehun knew exactly what Yixing felt, what those wide, anticipating eyes hinted at whenever they found his at the end of the day. Maybe, Sehun was just no longer in control of his own mind, constantly stuck between want and fear. Maybe, he just had a split personality. None of the options seemed any less credible than the others.

 

-

 

Just as their first sexual encounter had made Sehun more possessive, their second one did, if possible, cause Yixing to become even clingier. The annoying fact that Jongin seemed to have taken a liking to this little ball of eccentricity and ironic innocence didn’t help at all - he kept asking his roommate when “that crazy exchange student of his” would visit again - as didn’t the growing lump which seemed to have attached itself to Sehun’s swelling heart.

 

Now, at three in the morning trying not to shudder as Yixing’s back rubbed against his clothed chest, Sehun re-read the same boring sentence thrice, in those helpless attempts reciting every possible reason for as to why existence is without meaning and romantic feelings are thus as pointless. A bony chest was apparently deemed more comfortable than cushions and crumpled double duvets but although he still cursed the exchange student’s lack of respect for personal space, he also didn’t complain or, deep inside, mind. While the bed - which had for some cuddly reason replaced the stained couch for late night studying sessions - was wide enough for them both to lie comfortable without touching, Yixing certainly found no reason to give up on skinship. “A waste of energy,” was what he had said when a slightly tipsy Sehun asked why, and “I don’t know, _our_ energy,” had been the slurred answer as to what kind. He never backed away, never stopped slithering up closer, but then again did Sehun not give him any reason to. Not only had the latter lost his entire sense of emotional and sexual self-preservation, thus giving in to warmth - he also knew what would happen if he ever denied Yixing anything, what shame and disappointment would cloud the other’s pretty face. That was, after all, most probably one of the reasons as to why he had fucked him not only once but twice.

 

“Hey, shitface.” The mumbled voice broke the comfortable silence, having Sehun hum in response without tearing his eyes from the book he was in the process of devouring. Yixing had after meeting the insolent douchebag that was Jongin only once managed to pick up some degrading but nevertheless loving nicknames he found “cute”, much to Sehun’s dismay as well as amusement. Now holding his own book upside down again - a rather peculiar habit of his - he let his tongue peek out between lips as he turned the bundle of refined pulp around endlessly to examine it from every angle. “If the Absurd refers to the humanly impossible rather than the logically impossible, doesn’t that mean that there is still a chance for us to find the meaning of life?” He carelessly tossed the book towards the bedside table and missed, causing a small lamp to crash against the floor and shatter. None of them cared. “Theoretically, I mean.”

 

 

Sehun let out a sigh and shut his own book, with a tired yet amused grin looking down at Yixing who was glancing up at him from his so-called human pillow. “What’s with your obsession with the meaning of everything, huh? I thought we were pessimistic soulmates.” He pinched the now pouting one’s wrinkled nose only to receive an evil glare in response. “But please, do carry on.”

 

Yixing cleared his tar-filled throat, removing himself from Sehun’s chest by sitting up straight. “What I mean is that,” He gestured dramatically with his hands, with his suddenly wide open eyes and almost frantic expression having Sehun anticipate whatever bizarre monologue would spill from his lips this time, “what if we’ll eventually be able to transcend our human state?”

 

He stared into nothingness, his tired eyelids twitching like those of a madman’s because of the prodigious amounts of nicotine and caffeine consumed throughout the day. It was rather funny, how he still had the ability to surprise Sehun with whatever eccentric ideas popped into the land of wonders that was his mind, despite them having spent two months conversing about everything ranging from the nothingness of the universe to the beauty of conflagration.

 

 

Sehun raised an eyebrow and poked Yixing’s side with his foot, causing the obviously crazy one to jerk and return to reality. He chuckled, ignoring the threatening glances. “Have you been reading too much sci-fi again or are you secretly a transhumanist, Yixing?” There was a pause in conversation when the alleged transhumanist raised his soft fists to hit Sehun in protest, and the latter had to use his arms in order to shield himself from the potentially painful attack of the small yet dangerous person. “But you're right, I suppose.” Yixing whined when a palm got pressed against his face, disrupting his childish attack and forcing him to retreat. “Theoretically, that is.”

 

Dropping his pout before letting out a sigh more serious and long-drawn than what matched his usual demeanour, he threw himself back to reclaim his spot against Sehun’s chest. With hands pulling the arms of his human pillow closer to wrap around his own small frame and with fingers tracing along the prominent veins visible through pale forearms, he pressed his face against soft fabric and sulked. Sehun tried to control his own heart, in vain telling himself that there was no reason for his blood to be pumped around even faster than it already was.

 

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t human,” Yixing mumbled with lips wetting cotton fabric, and Sehun sighed in sudden pity. Letting his own restless fingers massage the other’s scalp, for how could he not touch when the other’s mood had dropped so suddenly without explanation, he let his chin rest softly on the heavy head propped against his all too hot chest. He did at most times not know what somber thoughts went through Yixing’s head, and sometimes he wasn’t sure whether he even wanted to or not. While the world could be a complicated and at times even scary place, there was enough reason for him to believe that minds could be even more so. Perhaps entering Yixing’s wondrous mind would leave him as naive and peculiar as him. Maybe it would just leave him ruined. Sehun didn’t know, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. Maybe one day he would catch a glimpse, at least get a hint of whatever were the intentions of the one now clutching his shirt in the middle of the night. Maybe then, if he did, he would be able to sort out his own intentions.

 

Gently and carefully removing his arms in order to go back to reading, he grabbed his book and hoped that all would turn out well in the end. Yixing seemed too deep in thought to complain about the lack of embracing arms, instead shifting between his pillow’s legs which were comfortably numb by now. Shifting restlessly in order to lie on his side, he slid farther down the wider torso only to rest his cheek between hipbones, his face dangerously close to Sehun’s crotch. Minutes went by without words, but silence was always doomed to be broken eventually.

 

“Lulu is forcing me to go to this party tomorrow, by the way. In some creepy, abandoned building.” Yixing’s mumbles sent vibrations through Sehun who kept his gaze fixed on the printed letters before him, although only half-heartedly skimming through the dry paragraphs.

 

“Is he really,” he responded, muttering but nonetheless proud of his own success in keeping nausea at bay despite the mere mention of that name. “Funny, because Jongin is trying the same with me.”

 

Jolting out of his position and accidentally pressing his sharp elbow against Sehun’s crotch, Yixing exclaimed in unexpected excitement. “We should go together!”

 

His eyes were wide open, as was his mouth which cracked up in a smile. Sehun groaned because of the pain, with fast fingers caressing the hurting area between his legs. Now more than ever could he not by any means understand what was so nice about pain, how anyone could possibly adapt willingly to the syndromes of masochism. “What?” he whined with a choked, high-pitched voice, cramps still emerging in waves from his crotch and mixing with the dismay caused by what the other had just suggested. “No!”

 

Taking him by surprise by crawling closer quicker than a spider, before the injured one even had time to react straddling him, Yixing pouted. The weight of his smaller body pressed too heavily against the hurting limb for even the slightest possibility of causing an awkward boner, and the way he grabbed Sehun’s shoulders and shook violently like some upset child was furthermore too frightful, borderline cute to not receive full attention.

 

“But Sehuuun!” His exaggerated shaking caused the book to fly out of Sehun’s hands, hitting the side table and dragging yet another breakable piece of decoration with it to the floor. The binding ripped audibly but Yixing kept whining, as always not caring about such petty things as worldly objects. “Don’t let me go alone!” Sehun frowned, a bit disturbed but nonetheless unsurprised by the other’s behaviour in itself. “There are gonna be so many drunk people and I’m too small to defend myself!”

 

Prying Yixing’s clutching hands away from his own shoulders, he held them tightly in his between their bodies in order to avoid any further damage. He didn't want to admit to himself what that last sentence did to him, to what sort of great worry and possessiveness it gave birth in his chest. Wanting to take it as a joke, to tell himself that the other was just acting silly in order to convince him, a self-destructive part of him could nevertheless not refrain from seeing it as blackmail. Maybe Yixing had noticed the war ravishing its way through Sehun’s insides, the feelings that were dangerously close to escaping the locked chest to which they had been confined. Maybe he used those undisclosed feelings to get what he wanted, whatever that was. Yixing wasn’t stupid - Sehun knew as much - but then again was the latter perhaps just overthinking things. He had, after all, on several occasions had to ignore the begging look in the other’s eyes, dodging the pouting lips that sometimes leant in a little bit too close. Maybe, just maybe, Yixing wanted more than Sehun in the end, but the prospects of that being true didn’t help to sort anything out at all. It was all just a mess, a clusterfuck of undefined feelings and a bottomless fear of what hell they could potentially cause. Sehun didn’t know what Yixing wanted - even less what he himself wanted - but he didn’t dare to find out. He just wanted to escape, yet he wanted his fingers to remain entwined with the other’s.

 

Locking eyes with the pouting yet overly excited one, he muttered. “No.” Parties weren’t for him, even though it had been his source of free alcohol and sexual fulfilment in the past. “Why do you even go to those parties? I thought you were better than that. Cooler,” he muttered sarcastically, knowing very well that the word “cool” had them both cringe awkwardly. Yixing pursed his lips, freeing his own hands from the grasp just to let them slide down Sehun’s arms. They travelled further, lean fingers interweaving again.

 

“Lulu says that I have to make the best of my time here.” He squeezed Sehun’s hands, the coldness of their thin appendages matching while he rocked his body back and forth slowly, pouting like some shy child. Sehun’s crotch still hurt a bit but that pain wasn’t the one on his mind when the words kept spilling. “We only have a few months left.”

 

Sehun knew what it meant. He knew that Yixing would leave eventually, had known that since they started associating. The awareness had in the back of his head been a constant, like some life-sucking leech extracting whatever happy thoughts his pessimistic mind managed to produce. It had consumed his energy, yet it had also been the reason for his reluctance to go through with what his heart really wanted.

 

With the everburning flame in him growing, stirring up in his stomach like an edible sadness which slithers into your DNA, he looked at the one in his lap. Eyes were shiny but not because of tears, and it was just that - the naiveté and the paradoxical innocence - that had him realize that he would not be able to deny this grown yet foolish man anything.

 

“Pleeeease,” Yixing pouted his lips as much as was possible, once again freeing his hands of Sehun’s. Squeezing his eyes shut while whining petulantly, he hit the already hurt one’s chest shallowly yet repeatedly, his small fists creating temporary bruises hidden beneath a shirt that was all too easy to just rip off and toss away. Sehun winced and grumbled, admitting defeat.

 

“Alright, _alright_.” There had been enough pain for tonight, he thought as he pushed Yixing backwards out of his lap, rubbing his own sore chest. _Just because you like to get ripped open and strangled doesn’t mean that I enjoy pain as much,_ he bitterly wanted to say aloud but refrained, instead glaring at the one whose face immediately cracked into a wide smile. He kept muttering, fully convinced of the certainty of what he was about to say. “But I know what kind of parties Baek throws and I’m not gonna enjoy it. Not one bit.”

 

Not caring to sulk about getting pushed over, Yixing heaved himself up on his elbows, legs still locked around Sehun’s waist without straddling. On his lips was still that smile, the genuine one which never failed to make butterflies flock and birds migrate back prematurely, but in his eyes was a tiny, blue fire, the one which bore the augury of some inevitable disaster.

 

Heaving himself up further to rest beside Sehun, hands grabbing an arm and fiery eyes peeking up from behind that fringe which had probably never been brushed, he insisted calmly.

 

“Yes, yes, you are. You’re gonna have so much fun.”

 

Sehun stayed that night. He didn’t fuck Yixing, didn’t want to fuck Yixing who fell asleep only minutes after those words, but he finally accepted the shy offer to share the bed which was, funnily enough, wider than the one in which they had first slept together only days ago.

 

Yixing all but purred and Sehun noticed his forced and probably painful attempt to not cling too much, while still awake and in fear of getting left alone refraining from being too much. The thrill of getting what he wanted must, however, have followed him into dreamland, because sudden inhibitions were dropped as soon as his eyeballs started moving beneath shut eyelids. Still smiling even when asleep, he shifted closer, closer and closer, clinging onto Sehun who several times had to open his own eyes just to make sure that Yixing had not transformed into an octopus. Limbs were everywhere and although Yixing’s double duvet would have been more than enough to protect them from the coldness coming from poorly isolated windows and a balcony door which never seemed to close properly, Sehun didn’t mind the lack of space between them. As long as they were sleeping, it was alright, because with lost consciousness followed lost responsibility.

 

Seconds before surrendering to whatever god was still in charge of sleep, Sehun thought about what Yixing had said. _You’re going to have so much fun_. He let the words sink in and run through his mind, over and over again until he believed them, with a weak, sleepy smile actually beginning to look forward to whatever chaos Baekhyun would cause tomorrow night.

 

If only they both knew how wrong Yixing would turn out to be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you a lot for commenting! It makes me very happy to hear what you think ♥


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Including: Jongin vomiting, Sehun crying (and also drugs, kisses, and Yixing kicking some butt).

Jongin snapped his fingers in front of Sehun. Yixing wasn’t sitting at his usual table, as wasn’t Luhan. The table was, in fact, quite empty, apart from a few girls whom Sehun recognized only vaguely.

 

“I said I’m talking to you!” Sehun just hummed, his gaze still travelling across the cafeteria, but the lax response seemed to satisfy Jongin who couldn’t shut up about tonight. “Anyway, there isn’t really a set time but Baek said that people will begin to show up at around ten or nine. It’s in that warehouse I mentioned and there’s no limit so we can bring as many as we want as long as they’re drunk. Your lonely ass doesn’t have any friends though so I guess you ride with us- Wait, or are you going with Yixing?”

 

Sehun nodded and hummed, not really listening but at least able to catch the name of the person he was looking for. He was worried without really knowing why, with a frown recalling that time when his friend, borderline fuckbuddy had without calling failed to show up for three days straight.

 

“Where is he…” he mumbled, but Jongin just stared, since a decade back used to the frequent detachment of his probably insane roommate.

 

“I take that as a yes,” he said as he shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth, sending Chanyeol who was as usual seated opposite them an amused smirk. Sehun kept humming and searching, the remains of last night’s failed dinner still waiting to be touched. “I’m kind of impressed, though, actually,” Jongin’s foot hitting his shin didn’t do much to break his focus, but he did out of sheer politeness try to listen nevertheless. “Two months ago you refused to talk to anyone but now you’re even sharing a bed with that guy.”

 

Sehun froze, almost jolting out of his attempts to localize the one mentioned. He let his gaze travel between his roommate and Chanyeol, for a moment lingering on the former who were watching him with a smirk as if he knew something. This was the first time Jongin had ever mentioned that morning - or rather, night - and the rather curious expression adorning Chanyeol’s face didn’t do anything to stop the fruitless prayers going through Sehun’s chaotic mind.

 

“Who are we talking about?” Chanyeol asked intelligently only for Jongin to roll his eyes, in a violent response to the stupid question kicking him hard under the table. “ _Ouch! How am I supposed to_ _kno_ \- Wait, oh. That exchange student?”

 

Sehun lowered his head, seeking refuge in the dryness of his untouched lunchbox. “Yixing,” he mumbled with a stuffed mouth, barely audibly, hoping that the blush on his face would remain unnoticed.

 

“Ah, yeah, of course.” An awkward cough escaped Chanyeol’s lips. “Xing. Baek mentioned it.”

 

There was silence for a moment, the sudden discomfort brought by whatever had been mentioned having even Jongin’s smirk dissolve into a blank face. Sehun shuddered and shut his lunchbox, not really curious enough to ask what “it” had been in reference to.

 

In a sudden rush gathering his things, he rose from the chair and smiled politely before anyone had time to protest. Pausing his proceeded attempts to rip a carton of milk open with his teeth, Chanyeol only stared, his wide eyes not at all matching the deep frown which had found the face of Jongin.

 

“See you tonight”, Sehun mumbled before dashing away, not yet sure whether in search of a certain exchange student or if heading towards the library. Jongin had been happy to find out that he was going to that damn party, after all, so he would surely survive a few hours without his roommate. It did furthermore give him some time to gossip around about whatever he had managed to figure out, and Sehun wouldn’t be the one to interfere. No, Jongin could tell Chanyeol whatever the hell he wanted, because things would as always return to normal in the end. With the only exceptions being the ones whose dicks had been in Sehun and vice versa, no one knew about his orientation, and that way it would remain, hopefully forever. In just a few months, Yixing would leave, and every suspicion based on spent nights and white stains would be forgotten. Yes, by the time spring turned into summer, everything would be forgotten.

 

Sehun stopped walking and looked up, a sigh slipping from his already frozen lips when the sight of snowflakes dangling through the air registered. It was pretty, too pretty, yet not enough. He shut his eyes and considered - _to call or not to call?_ No, they would meet tonight. Yixing would show up as usual, with pink, puffy cheeks shivering outside the library. He would grab Sehun’s arm and with a huge pout on his face complain about the cold, dragging him home to chug bottles of wine in preparation for tonight. Yes, it would be painful, but it would be perfect. Two masochistic friends doing whatever friends did.

 

Suddenly smiling, Sehun lowered his gaze and continued to walk without any clear objective. Today, he would be the one to wait. Today, Yixing wouldn’t have to freeze. Walking and walking through snow and slippery ice, he kept smiling to himself, happily unaware of that not very far from there, someone was dangerously close to going berserk on a toilet stall.

 

“Xing, _please_ ,” Luhan pleaded as he knocked determinedly on the door for what seemed like the hundredth time in five minutes. “Don’t listen to her, she’s just a meanie, you know that. A big, big meanie.”

 

His insides were boiling, not mainly because of his best friend’s childishness which he knew there was a medical reason for, but because of the bitch who never seemed to miss an opportunity to ruin the day. No response came from the one who kept sulking behind the locked door.

 

“It’s not your fault that everyone wants you, she knows that and you know that too. Don’t mind her, please. She’s just jealous because her date decided to fuck you instead, okay?” Silence. “Xing?”

 

Finally snapping, he kicked the door and yelled, causing a teary-eyedZitao to grab his arm and pull him back. “Answer me, goddamnit!” An exhausted Yifan was just about to protest his choice of words but Luhan raised a warning finger, pointing and glaring at the two others before leaning in closer to the door. He tried, he really did. He had tried for so long, ever since they were kids, yet these moments always came. “Okay, you know what,” he continued, ready to bring out the whip yet hoping that his harsh words would not backlash. “If you don’t open the door  _now_ or at least answer me, I’m going to bulldoze this fucking building and drag you out of whatever’s left of it. Oh, and I’m not gonna fuck you again. Not ever.”

 

Yifan sent him a pleading look while mouthing the words “ _oh, come on_ ”, but all was left ignored by him who had more than once been called “daddy Lu”. He didn’t care if he sounded harsh - Yixing was sensitive but he wasn’t a child, at least not physically. He could handle it, _should_ have been able to handle it, and Luhan was, furthermore and despite being the one who babied him the most always the one who had to raise his voice whenever needed to. No one else dared, and neither did they have any right to.

 

Mumbling finally emerged from behind the door and Luhan stuck his tongue out at Yifan who rolled his eyes and shrugged, admitting defeat. He let his voice grow softer, although far from devoid of annoyance. “What did you say?”

 

Soft sniffles were offered in response just as another person entered the restroom, but the three friends glared at the oblivious newcomer, causing him to back out with a scared expression. Luhan cussed and pressed his ear against the door, listening as Yixing kept mumbling.

 

“I said I’m fine, Lulu. Go away.” There were more muffled sniffles, making him sound just as miserable as usual. “I’ll see you at the party later, so just go.”

 

Luhan sighed, happy to find his friend alive but nonetheless annoyed at him. “So that you can drown yourself in the toilet bowl? I think not.” He scoffed and crossed his arms, tapping his foot against the tiled floor. “I’m a better friend than that. Your _best friend_ , mind you. So nope. Not gonna leave you here to sulk or kill yourself again, Xing.”

 

Resting his tearstained face against wet knees, Yixing pouted at his best friend’s words. Stupid Luhan. Stupid Jinjing. “ _You can’t just fuck your way out of mental illness, Yixing!_ ” the girl had let out earlier before getting her face marked with Luhan’s fist, a nosebleed ruining her lunch which looked gross anyway. Yixing had been shocked and escaped into a bathroom stall, in spite of Yifan’s reasoning and Zitao’s begging refusing to come out for an hour. Now, there he was, determined to stay until none other than Sehun called him out of worry.

 

Fucking had along with pain been his escape for years, his lecherous hobby and source of attention, so Jinjing was wrong, so wrong. Luhan was the one who had taught it to him, at the age of eighteen been the first one to ever tell him that him babies don’t come with the stork. Luhan had been the first one to ever enter him, so something like sex could not possibly be that bad. Or could it? Yixing did at most times trust his own crooked reasoning, but not always. He _did_ sometimes feel a bit dirty after sex - stained, depleted, _filthy_ \- but only when it happened to be with his landlord or some other old man with deep pockets. Luhan had never made him feel that way and neither had Sehun the two times they had done it, but then again had neither of them offered him any money for it.

 

He pouted, continuing to sulk while hugging his legs tighter where he sat. Something had happened in this particular stall a few weeks ago, and he briefly recalled the feeling of his own face getting pressed violently against the dirty toilet seat during one of the morning breaks. The relief of earning the highest grade on a course he didn’t study for had felt good, but the memory of that young lecture’s hands and cock had it fade immensely in comparison. The material benefits of being a full-blown satyromania were good, but it was nothing compared to sexual fulfilment brought by a cock touching his pharynx and derogatory words hitting his eardrums.

 

He sighed and kept pouting, fleetingly wondering what was so wrong about giving up your body for the sake of pleasure and benefits. On the outside, Luhan’s voice grew angrier, but Yixing didn’t care. He loved his friend but he was dumb, just like Jinjing was wrong, so wrong, and mean, so mean.

 

-

 

Sehun was already too drunk to wonder how on earth Baekhyun had managed to pull this off.

 

A dirty, old warehouse, industrial and spacious and constructed mainly out of concrete and huge, rusty steel beams. How he had managed to pay for or even find the strobes was way beyond Sehun, yet nothing compared to the wonder of having invited almost two hundred people without the police taking him into custody for organizing illegal activity in a restricted area. Pills were popped and passed around like pamphlets, as was booze and condoms and tiny, pink patches. Everything was a mess but Baekhyun seemed untroubled, laughing and shouting and grabbing whatever butt he found without caring who might snap his neck.

 

Sehun scowled as he gazed down into his plastic mug, able to see the bottom of it. He hadn’t been lying when he told Jongin that strong alcohol would be his only way to endure a social gathering like this, yet he did after one bottle of wine and countless drinks find himself wanting to escape. “Let’s leave early,” he had begged only five minutes after arriving, and his companion had actually agreed, deeply unsettled by having his small body almost tossed around by the mob of equally drunk people surrounding them. “Don’t worry, I already regret coming here,” Yixing had mumbled in response, only for his truthfulness to fade when he caught sight of Baekhyun who squealed, sprinting towards the friend of his not-so-secret flirt. Unintentionally threatening glances had been sent by Sehun who saw exactly where overexcited hands were heading, and the all too tight and cordial embraced shared between the two small people had put him in a state of deep discomfort.

 

Fleetingly wondering when and how on earth Yixing had gotten so close with Baekhyun, he now tore his gaze from the bottom of his mug and let it fall on the one who had finally gone back to clutching his arm. He frowned, trying to follow the distracted gaze sent through half-lidded eyes. Sure, Baekhyun did from time to time play intimately with Chanyeol despite the latter’s outspoken heterosexuality, thus surely having the power of befriending anyone, but it didn’t make any sense for him to associate with Yixing. The fact that he slept with the latter’s best friend didn’t matter at all, because Luhan, their mutual cuddle buddy, wasn’t important. Sehun shuddered, not able to swallow the fact that rather than surprised, he should have expected it to happen. Baekhyun and Yixing were, after all, soulmates in terms of behaviour, so why they weren’t besties yet was, in reality, the only unsolved mystery.

 

Feeling his thoughts wander in unwanted directions, he shook his head and felt the world spin a little bit too fast. Yixing’s fingers were squeezed between his arm and ribs and although he almost gave in to the impulse to drag his friend back home, he didn’t want to give up the warmth. The small body pressed against his side felt all too good, especially in the warehouse that was despite its many temporary inhabitants as cold as night. Winter air and illicitly distilled alcohol did, furthermore, give him an excuse to revel in things he usually tried half-heartedly to avoid.

 

He shivered when the grasp on his arm tightened but welcomed the touch nevertheless. The people around them did with their dancing and laughing, drunk and high and loud enough to cause tinnitus, offer a kind of anonymity, or so he imagined.

 

Dropping his empty mug to the concrete ground only to have a filled one shoved into his hand immediately, he accidentally locked eyes with the girl who was suddenly before him and lingered. She was pretty, that much was certain, but her slim hands finding their way to his neck weren’t. The puffs of air hitting his neck as she leaned in closer felt good, but the smell of her acrid breath didn’t. Everything she did was something a “regular guy” should have enjoyed, under the strobes and clouds of smoke even initiated himself, and although Sehun for natural reasons wanted to push her away, he didn’t.

 

He could no longer feel Yixing’s hands when the girl pulled him closer, her wine tinted lips leaving red stains all over his neck and chin. Everything spun a little bit faster when his own hands found their way to her rolling hips, lingering as if automatic, and he let out a gasp, his crotch meeting hers. It somehow felt good when he shut his eyes because that way he couldn’t see what was going on - he couldn’t see the face caked with makeup, couldn’t make out the lack of a messy fringe when the taste of fermented grapes reached his lips. He gasped and gave in, for one moment imagining a dimple when her nails raked against the skin beneath his shirt, her tongue tasting of sugar and adulterants while licking into his mouth.

 

He didn’t know how it happened, but neither did he have time to ponder over it. Before he in his drunken mind had time to realize what was going on, whether to push the girl away or fully pretend that she was someone else, a sharp pain went through his jaw when his tongue got pierced by teeth. The taste of blood replaced the one of sugar and spice and before Sehun could register the spectrum of profanities spilling from the girl’s mouth as she fell to the floor, the sight of a small yet dangerous person met him.

 

“ _He’s not interested_ ,” Yixing hissed after pushing the girl violently, his eyes wet and unpleasantly furious. It looked very unlike him, the way his fists were clenched and how the veins on his forehead were protruding, the fire in his gaze only intensifying when the girl wriggled out of restricting pumps and stumbled to her feet.

 

“ _What the fuck is your problem-_ ” she began to shout but a kick to her shin cut her off. Her voice broke into a shriek which got muffled between the three of them, disappearing among bodies that were pulsating along with the music, and although Sehun should have stopped the attack, he didn’t. Crouching to caress her leg through the hole in her fishnets, the girl let her fingers travel across the already dark bruise caused by Yixing’s foot swinging with full-force, and Sehun stared, in post-shock and drunkenness unable to do anything but watch. Yixing grabbed his arm again, leading him away with a pissed expression on his usually sweet face.  

 

“ _People were right about you, after all!_ ” the girl shouted after them, her scoffs reverberating through Sehun’s body but doing nothing to pause Yixing’s steps. _People_. Perhaps everyone had figured out what Sehun was yet to accept, but he wouldn’t linger to find out.

 

No words were uttered between them as they found themselves near the open exit, hiding in some corner behind a group of people of which most were making out fervently. Sehun wanted to sink through the earth in order to escape the sudden cold sweat he suffered, the unpleasant feeling battling the warmth given by Yixing who hugged his waist tightly. The floor was, however, solid and furthermore hard enough to only crack even if he was to shove his head against it.

 

Light didn’t find them where they stood leaning against the cold, damp wall, and neither did the strobes which were still illuminating the dancing people. It was way past midnight but the woods around them still pulsated, birds and rabbits fleeing the sound of electronic music blasted out by subwoofers and human-sized speakers. Pouting and muttering and with a face flushed by alcohol, Yixing clung even harder, his thin arms locked around Sehun as if the latter would escape if given the chance to. It felt nice, Sehun would have admitted in a sober state of mind. Nice, yet destructively confusing.

 

“What was that all about?” he mumbled only to repeat it with a shouting voice, his lips still tasting like that stranger but now brushing against a familiar ear. Yixing didn’t look at him as he kept pouting, his eyes averted and arms squeezing. There was no immediate response and Sehun frowned, beginning to squirm his way out of the tight embrace only to find himself pressed against the wall.

 

“I might ask you the same,” Yixing mumbled into his ear while tiptoeing, the words discernible only because of their closeness. He didn’t sound harsh, neither as enraged as he had acted earlier, yet his voice was stained with bitterness. Sehun shuddered, afraid to figure out what it meant. Feeling the other’s head drop from his shoulder and fall to his chest, the pouting face pressing against it as fingers clutched the backside of his shirt, he sighed. He was still drunk, almost destructively so, and the growing pressure on his bladder did nothing to soothe the slight discomfort by having Yixing so close. It wasn’t that he didn’t _like_ to be near him - he was just scared, as usual. Seeing as a complete stranger, a girl of all people had managed to slip past his comfort zone and into his mouth, there was no guaranteeing that his self-preserving mechanisms would work against someone whom he had already been inside. Seeing as it was Yixing’s distorted face that he had unwillingly been imagining when a tongue slipped to suck on his own, there was no way to guarantee anything.

 

With Yixing still hugging him against the wall, Sehun regretted his decision to come but tried to let it go. Accidents happened, would always happen. It was an inevitable part of life and did furthermore provide him with enough reason to never attend a party ever again. He squeezed his friend back, in a moment of sudden indifference not caring about emotional consequences - they had gone there together, had promised each other to leave early, and that had probably been the reason for Yixing’s dramatic reaction to having his company stolen.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, but it got drowned in music. He could feel his heartbeats and Yixing’s, could feel them match in speed although solely because of the pulsating bass. It was relaxing, he thought briefly as his hands found their way to the other’s neck, his fingers burying themselves in the mop of hair. Relaxing, not inappropriate. Close, yet friendly. Entirely platonic.

 

Contrary to what it did to most people, alcohol had never really intensified Sehun's libido. Whiskey dick had on several occasions been the reason for awkward disruptions of drunken hookups, which was why he now found no critical urge to devour the one in front of him. There was, however, another disturbance. A growing need to empty his bladder threatened to crack the small bubble they had built in that corner, and although it sounded ridiculous, it was still the reason for his stomach to clench at the mere thought of leaving.

 

“I need to take a piss…” he half-mumbled, half-shouted into Yixing’s ear, having the other lift his head and face him with a horrified, almost offended expression. Glances were sent at the oversexed people surrounding them and although they were enjoying themselves in their own worlds, their closeness in distance made them particularly palpable.

 

“You can’t leave me alone with these people!” Yixing’s voice cracked audibly but it could have been the result of alcohol, and Sehun’s bladder was furthermore too close to exploding for him to not disappoint the easily disappointed one. He scoffed, knowing that a grown man like his friend was perfectly capable of surviving on his own, but frowned nevertheless.

 

“You’re the one who dragged me to this place,” he said, because of the pain in his abdomen feeling only slightly bad for making Yixing pout. Rolling his eyes at the other’s childish expression, he thought and considered, his reasoning however devoid of any seriousness. “Come with me, then. You can hold my dick.” Yixing wrinkled his nose, feigned disgust replacing his previous pout.

 

“Ew, no.” Sehun laughed without feeling and raised an eyebrow, the bitter words “what stopped you before?” almost escaping his lips which still tasted like wine and sugar. Whatever his drunken mind threatened to spill did, however, get interrupted by Yixing’s continued petulance. “Just hurry,” he whined as he crossed his arms, not at all eased by getting his hair ruffled and his cheek patted. Apparently deciding that the cold outside wasn’t a nice place, he sank into the corner when Sehun let go of his body, almost merging with the cinder grey wall. The latter skipped away, determined to return quickly.

 

A loud shout could be heard, luring an equally cheerful shout out of Yixing when Sehun was already metres away, but the latter wouldn’t risk to piss his pants just in order to see who had appeared. It _would_ have been the cherry on the cake representing his decadent lifestyle, yet he concluded that urinary infection caused by walking home with clothes reeking of frozen piss wasn’t on the list of things he wanted to experience. So he kept walking, ready to just finish his business in whatever place felt secluded enough.

 

The outside was, as expected, less scary than the inside. Hundreds of drunken feet had trampled the centimetres of snow lying spread across the surrounding grounds, creating a compact layer of sparkling crystals. People were everywhere but there weren’t as many, and the silence of those wanting to escape chaos created a soothing contrast to the throbbing bass emerging from the inside, making dust fall rhythmically from the concrete walls.

 

Someone was moaning incoherently in a bush, jerking off to the sound of music. Another one was climbing a tree, her pupils wide and dressed ripped apart by bark and branches. Sehun spared them fleeting glances, somewhere in the back of his drunken head wondering if acid would be the remedy he himself needed. Maybe it would help him escape this monotonous reality, maybe it would earn him a straight ticket to the sanatorium - none of the options felt too unappealing. Humming in sudden contentment at the discovery of an ultimate liberation from this monochrome yet painful world, he felt the said world spin just a little bit slower as he walked along the warehouse in search of a wall that would look good covered in urine.

 

“Schehuuun..!” An all too familiar voice appeared behind him just as he was done with business and about to pull his zipper back up, the shout loud and sudden enough to have had him jump if sober. He turned around, his already wobbly knees almost bending when his total weight was doubled, and Jongin locked two weak arms around him, pushing them against the piss-stained wall. “Where have you beeeen?” he slurred, having Sehun retreat a little bit in perfect awareness of his roommate’s tendency to throw up while drunk. Jongin kept slurring, clinging to his roommate like a monkey. “Sche… Schehun, have you ever…” He hiccuped and stumbled, the unsteadiness of his limbs forcing Sehun to grab his waist in order to avoid any fall-related injuries. “Have you ever… sucked a dick…”

 

The lesser drunk one froze, for a moment just staring down at his destructively intoxicated friend. While he wasn’t that sober himself, he still had mind capacity enough to register the questioning words to which he in no universe would want to provide an answer. Jongin looked up, with a distorted grin and heavy eyelids continuing to slur and mumble.

 

“How isch it? Nice… or... “ He stumbled again and fell to his knees, hands clutching onto his best friend’s shirt. The weird sounds emerging from his throat had Sehun fear for his own hygienic safety, yet the latter could only scowl at the words spitted out by a mouth reeking of poison. “How does an ass feel like… Schehun… ugh… I gotta… gotta get you laid…”

 

“No.” The questioned one spoke surprisingly firmly given the circumstances, all while struggling to pull up his own zipper as well as his roommate’s. “You need to get that shit out of you and go home, idiot.”

 

Refusing to have any of it but still too wasted to physically protest, Jongin kept clinging, continuing to slur incoherent sentences. “I thought it would… taste bad… but… it did… didn’t…” he mumbled before finally throwing up against the wall, by some miracle missing Sehun who was too drunk to ask what the hell those words meant. “Aaaah, Schehun… love you,” he sighed, peeking up and smiling uglily. Vomit was dripping from his chin and Sehun gagged, at this point not even having to consider the option of staying. Leaving his roommate to his own suffering was a terrible thing to do, yes, but they had both survived worse than this. Everything would end up fine.

 

Not sparing the now grounded Jongin a second glance as he fled back inside, he tried to replace the slight nausea given birth to by not only the smell of bile but also those words. Sehun had during his teenage and adult years choked on some dicks - more than he could count, if he was to be honest - but never had he told his best friend about it. Hopefully, Jongin would have forgotten all about that question when he woke up, and _hopefully_ , Sehun thought with a shudder, his roommate wasn’t drunkenly redefining his own preferences.

 

“ _I thought it would… taste bad… but… it did… didn’t…_ ”

 

No, Jongin was as straighter than a ruler, and in addition to that as pissed as a newt. Sehun shuddered again and shut his eyes, almost bumping into some euphoric dude with firecrackers taped onto his bare chest. _Fuck_. Where was Yixing?

 

Back in the corner where Sehun had broken their bubble, his companion of the night was no longer to be seen. Now replaced with a sleepy and somewhat miserable-looking Chanyeol who was quietly observing some heated discussion between Baekhyun and a few others, he shone with his absence, having Sehun turn on his heel only to get noticed immediately.

 

“Sehun!” Chanyeol jerked awake when he caught sight of him, sprinting the few steps between them. His hair was dishevelled and he looked awfully cold, with his jacket gone and belt undone almost shaking where he now stood, grabbing onto the hand of Sehun who tried half-heartedly to escape. “Have you seen Jongin?” he asked worriedly, voice hinting at a level of inebriation far lower than the one mentioned. “He… I lost him.”

 

Sehun frowned. The alcohol was doing its reversed magic, together with the toxic fumes from people all around leaving him too dizzy to enjoy the second-hand rush. Yixing was, furthermore, gone, and that did despite his presumed capability to care for himself only intensify the unpleasant feelings. This wasn’t how Sehun had expected the night to turn out, but then again should he not have been surprised. Baekhyuns parties did usually end with at least a dozen people crying, and rumor even had it that someone once died. The likelihood of that being true weren't even that low, seeing as drugs weren't a taboo and that a guy accidentally drowning himself during a bad trip on acid was thus not far from achievable.

 

“Outside, throwing up,” Sehun mumbled in response to Chanyeol while with his gaze searching the all too large room, desperately trying to find his friend. He knew that he could have stayed with the others until the latter showed up again, in order to avoid any advances given by girls or others, but instead he kept mumbling, unfocused. “He's covered in vomit. Going on about ass and blowjobs.”

 

Pausing his tugging at Sehun’s hand, Chanyeol stared with a suddenly apologetic expression adorning his usually cheerful face. A quiet “sorry” was left behind when he rushed outside with a sheepish grin, but Sehun didn’t ask, didn’t even hear him. All he could do was search the room, in that moment wanting nothing else than to find Yixing and grab him, to push him into a corner in order to rebuild their little bubble of hugs and pouts. He wanted to leave, to go home, to maybe even fuck the brains out of the one he had taken before. He wanted anything but to just stand there, but Yixing was nowhere to be seen - that was, until Sehun finally managed to move his feet and enter the mob of people.

 

A stone found his stomach and he felt his eyelids twitch. The sound of people laughing and music thudding faded, replaced with a static buzzing which seemed to penetrate his skull, swelling on the inside. A lump found his throat, another one his chest.

 

Among the many people, he could see Yixing. He was right there, smiling as cutely as usual, and although the sight shouldn’t have hit Sehun like an arrow to the chest, it did. With another body pressed against his, Yixing kept giggling, standing by the opposite wall, leaning against it. His eyes were droopy but he didn’t seem too drunk, with his flushed face and swollen lips looking just like Sehun had seen him before in another situation. He looked so happy when he laughed, nose wrinkled under crescent-shaped eyes and limbs entwining with another’s. Another who happened to be Luhan.

 

Lulu, doing whatever Lulu did.

 

A warm smile, a whisper against skin. All Sehun could see was those two, laughing and touching and doing things that shouldn’t have surprised him. A peck on a neck, lips against an ear. Fingers tugging on hair and hands slipping discreetly beneath tight fabric. It was all too much and Sehun choked on unfallen tears, at the moment Yixing’s face got hidden behind Luhan’s feeling his knees grow weak.

 

He wanted to stop it but he couldn’t move. He found himself anchored, feet frozen and merged with the concrete floor. While he _wanted_ to move, to run across the room and rip those two exchange students apart, he didn’t. His body wouldn’t respond and it felt heavy, slowly sinking through the floor despite the many dancing bodies bumping into him. A girl grabbed his hips from behind but he didn’t notice. With eyes tearing up and fingers unconsciously clutching the stranger’s, Sehun had to convince himself that there wasn’t a kiss. It was all a lie but it was critically necessary, because even though he could see Yixing’s lips perfectly clear, he didn’t have the strength to admit it.

 

 

Trying to force his tired limbs to move, he felt his heart pump slower when Yixing looked up only to catch sight of him. A string of saliva connected his lips to Luhan’s and although his eyes widened in sudden panic, Sehun saw only the lust clouding them. The bass was still throbbing and people were still dancing, some of them kissing, some of them laughing. Everything was a mess but it all seemed so calm in comparison, because at the moment Luhan grabbed Yixing’s hand to drag him away, all the dreams and desires that Sehun had until now been suppressing tumbled in on him. The first tear fell. The stranger pressed herself closer to his back.

 

Yixing wasn’t smiling anymore and although he was locking eyes with Sehun, all the latter could see was Luhan’s hands - his _hands, hands, hands_ which there were so many of and his _lips, lips, lips_ that were staining Yixing’s swollen ones. All he could see was that person stealing whom Sehun didn’t have the right to claim, and all he could focus on was how Yixing, despite his pained expression, wasn’t showing even the slightest sign of pulling back. He didn’t notice the increased wetness of his friend’s eyes but neither did he stay to find out, because as Luhan's hands grew more impatient, Sehun’s limbs finally unlocked.

 

The stranger’s offended expression remained uncared for when he fled, through the dancing crowd escaping as if from a ravenous wildfire. All memories of a vomiting Jongin speaking of nonsense were drowned in choked back sobs, as were the ones of a worried Chanyeol and the sight of an overhyped Baekhyun trying to wave him over as he ran. Sehun was too busy trying to fight his tears to see anything, and that was why he completely missed what happened next.

 

He didn’t see the way Yixing slipped out of Luhan’s grasp for just a minute, ready to run but giving up as soon as his small body crashed into the overwhelming crowd. He didn’t see the disappointed look in his friend’s eyes when Luhan grabbed his hand again and dragged him towards a less crowded space, drunkenly whispering that “you’ll just get lost among the people, Xing, I don’t wanna see you cry”. Sehun didn’t see any of this, didn’t linger one second to consider what options he had, because by the time Luhan had managed to pull Yixing into some dark, empty corridor, his pants were already wet with snow. Seated on the ground with hot tears running down his cheeks and freezing, all that filled Sehun’s mind were images of plump lips locked with thinner ones, lean fingers disappearing beneath fabric.

 

Tiny, pink patches were offered to him as he sat there crying, and although intense hallucinations and complete blackouts should have been frightening, potential death wasn’t far from desirable. He didn’t remember how he got home that night, wasn’t even aware of whether the room in which collapsed in _was_ his home or not, but nothing really mattered as bad thoughts faded to leave space for colourful patterns and delightful nightmares. The room didn’t look like a room, anyway, with its too many walls that kept moving and shrinking, and his body was no longer cold or shaking, but strictly fluid. Pouting lips dematerialized in front of him as he began to drift away, and Yixing suddenly felt rather nebulous and delicate where he lied, his iridescent blood turning the snow around him into rainbow dust as Sehun fucked him hard and raw right next to Luhan’s dismembered body.

 

Jongin had just covered Chanyeol’s floor in vomit but that didn’t matter, just as Yixing sobbing by the feeling of Luhan entering him didn’t. In Sehun’s mind was only green, red and purple, stars shooting before him as he with Icarus’ melted wings fell towards Earth. Somewhere in the woods, Baekhyun got arrested for drug possession, and elsewhere, Yixing lay passed out with his hole stretched and leaking blood. At Chanyeol's place, a panicky Jongin was frantically dialling his roommate's number, but none of that mattered as Sehun crashed against the surface of the ocean, realizing that what is called a reason for living is also an excellent excuse for dying. As his heart started to palpitate because of drugs he had never before consumed, all that filled his mind was pain and nothing.

 

How could he allow himself to feel like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for leaving kudos and commenting! My day is made whenever i see something popping into my inbox ♡


	9. Chapter 9

“What are you doing?” Jongin asked as if it wasn’t obvious, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom in which the sound of vomiting had echoed for hours. Sehun emptied another round of gastric fluids into the toilet bowl, bitterly wondering why his all too conscious roommate was sipping freshly brewed coffee instead of dying.

 

He had found himself in the hallway that morning, front door open and not a caring human in sight. Neighbours had earlier passed by with disgusted expressions on their faces but Sehun had been too lost in lingering hallucinations to notice, too deep in self-induced coma to wake up. Now coughing violently, hours after with twitching limbs crawling into the bathroom, he lowered his heavy head until his nose touched toilet water, remains of wine mixed with God-knows-what drugs dripping from his chin.

 

“I’m facing the Absurd,” he answered shakily, too drained of life to fight Jongin whose voice was cold and whose face was blank. The smell of vomit hit him again, causing him to gag and regurgitate despite there being nothing left to empty. “And v-violently throwing up.”

 

Unamused hums were offered in response as his roommate had another sip of coffee, scanning the dying one up and down with eyes that weren’t nearly as tired as they should have been. “I can see that,” he mumbled before pacing away calmly, leaving Sehun to his own misery. The latter cussed in between the gags, bile escaping his pale lips and toilet water splattering onto his cold, sweaty face.

 

“Where were you?!” he shouted, anger building up inside of him. Shame would have found him if he hadn’t been destructively hungover, would have made him feel bad for blaming anyone but himself, but in his shaking body was only loathing. The fire in his stomach had been replaced by a void, its great gravity letting it devour all that was left of him but nausea and contempt. Jongin scoffed loudly from the kitchen, coffee cup slammed loudly onto the table and cracking.

 

“Since my _best friend_ betrayed me,” could be heard as naked steps grew louder, more irritated, “I went to Chanyeol’s.” Sehun spilt another round of obscenities, spitting useless curses straight into the toilet bowl as his roommate kept shouting back. “ _With_ _ **your**_ _exchange student!_ ”

 

The front door slammed and silence followed, save for violent vomiting and continued cussing. Sehun fell to the tiled floor, shivering and not caring about what fluids will miss the toilet. He had no idea why Yixing had gone with Jongin, didn’t even know what had happened to himself after the psychedelics entered his system, but he couldn’t care less.

 

His limbs were still numb and his mouth tasted of blood, although he wasn't sure of whose it was. With its sweetness offering a welcomed contrast to the acridity of everything else, it escaped his hurting nostrils as he choked, running over his lips and down his neck before creating a small pool on the floor on which he lay collapsed. He knew that it wouldn't wash, that the crimson-coloured liquid sinking into grout as sealant would remain until a much-needed change of tiles, but he didn't give a shit. Maybe it was his own, leaking from gastric ulcers which cause he didn't want to find out, or maybe it was the imagined, iridescent blood which he had in his delirious mind drunk straight from Yixing’s lips after ripping his asshole open. He didn't know but neither did it matter, because as he kept coughing and vomiting, he did for the first time in his life _really_ decide that death is far from undesirable.

 

Rolling around to lie on his back, he felt his whole body twitch at the loud groan escaping his own lips. Between him and the now slippery floor, his cellphone seemed to crush his sore vertebrae, its screen revealing itself cracked when he fished it out beneath him and battery near zero. He groaned again, somewhere deep inside praying that these unearthly odours festering his senses and abusing his taste buds would not remain forever. It would have been a great understatement to classify his overall state as simple “bad”, for not even a package of menthol cigarettes would save his mouth from this demoniac taste, and the sharp pain shooting through his torso down his abdomen had him unable to tell whether his ribs and hips were broken or just sore.

 

He whimpered unintentionally and let his fingers tap the screen of his phone, his aching eyes squinting at the messages and notifications of missed calls flooding his inbox. Fifty-nine missed calls, a list of names including Jongin and Yixing and even some sporadic Chanyeol. A few unknown numbers stared at him from between the familiar names, but he had neither the strength nor care to look them up. Hell, he didn't even have any energy to gasp at the quantity.

 

“Sehun where are you”, “Sehun please respond”, “Sehun please I don't know what to do I’m scared”. Countless messages sent by Yixing was for a moment all he saw, all he sighed at as his fingertips swiped across the broken screen, tiny bits of blood escaping them and smearing. All those _Sehun, Sehun, Sehun_ and _please, please, please_ seemed to be screaming at him, the written words slapping his face with their desperacy, yet he didn't care to tap a response.

 

 _So this is what Death tastes like_ , he thought as he threw his phone across the bathroom. Squirming a bit where he lay swimming in fluids, blood and more bile pouring from his lips and down his neck, he cursed the image his roommate’s cold, ugly face appearing in front of him as he shut his eyes in an attempt to die. He hated him, just as he hated the kind stranger who had offered him drugs and that girl who had made out with him. He hated his parents for giving birth for him, hated Baekhyun for throwing that party. With every still living cell of his body, he hated Yixing and Luhan, but out of all inhabitants on Earth, he hated himself the most.

 

-

 

“It seems like you’ve suffered a minor head trauma.” The doctor’s words barely registered as Sehun kept zooming out, trying not to think, and the latter’s brutal headache did nothing to stop the flood of thoughts from shooting through his mind. “It doesn’t appear too serious but some cognitive post-symptoms might occur. I recommend you to take it slow and not leave bed for a few days.”

 

Jongin bowed, a polite “thank you” leaving his lips as he grabbed his roommate’s hand to pull him out of the ugly, mint green chair. Physical assistance had turned out to be necessary in order for Sehun to not fall or bump into things, for even though the damages to his head weren’t critical, the strange bruises and unexplainable wounds covering most parts of his body had him unable to walk without pain. The doctor sighed and let out a cough, calloused fingers grabbing a pen to scribble down important instructions on some small piece of yellowish paper.

 

Sehun stared in front of him with hazy eyes, a prescription of acetaminophen resting in his pale, still shivering hands. The room in which he stood felt like hell, with its all too white, bright walls abusing his eyes, making it feel as if a thousand needles were stuffed insides his orbital cavities. He clutches Jongin’s hand, wanting nothing else than to go home, yet his mind kept festering him with pain unrelated to physical injuries.

 

He recalled the party. Sure, he hadn't _really_ been interested in that girl, but the fact that Yixing had pulled her away and kicked her shin only to abandon Sehun and spend the night with someone else had his already corroding insides boil. He didn't know if it had been intentional, if Yixing was aware of what feelings were being played with for the good who-knows-what, but it didn't really matter. Yixing would have been stupid to not realize what Sehun really felt, because although the latter still tried to deny the obvious fact that the other’s feelings weren’t merely platonic either, he still knew. Deep inside, he knew that at this point, neither of them would deny the other a kiss.

 

He sighed and bowed, weakly returning the doctor’s smile. What gave Yixing the right?

 

-

 

He hadn’t met Yixing for days when he arrived at his apartment, limbs still heavy and head still pounding. Not one lecture had been attended and neither had he eaten - the aftermath of a bad trip, an overdose or whatever he should have called that horrid experience hadn’t really allowed to him to do anything but suffer in bed. Painkillers had been washed down with water or aspirin only to get thrown up again minutes later, and although he had once _tried_ to have a cigarette, it had resulted in a fountain of gastric fluids and two hours of extreme migraine.

 

Now greeted with a pair of wide, worried eyes, he let a quiet yet cold “sorry” slip from lips that were paler than Yixing had ever seen them before walking inside without shame. Calls had been denied and messages ignored, because in spite of the desperacy hiding behind every written word, Sehun hadn’t been in a state to talk, physically nor mentally.

 

“You left,” Yixing mumbled when the still sick one buried himself in the bed which looked unusually clean, the former with a slightly offended expression looking as if he had not been the one abandoning his companion of the night in order to lock lips with Luhan. “You were gone.” Sehun peeked up from beneath the covers, with half-lidded eyes staring into teary ones. Yixing continued, lips trembling as he kept standing awkwardly by the bed. “Jongin told me you were in a coma and that he was gonna pull the plug.”

 

Freezing for just a moment, Sehun did despite the fucked up circumstances and his hurting brain feel a quiet chuckle escape his lips. He rolled his eyes and turned around to lie on his stomach, while breathing in the scent of the pillow actually admiring his roommate’s lack of tactfulness. Of course his idiot of a best friend had taken this opportunity to throw a joke without realizing that Yixing took things just a little bit more literal than everyone else.

 

“Yeah, I was,” he said matter-of-factly as he buried himself beneath the covers again, causing Yixing’s eyes to widen, a slow tear rolling down his cheek. “But I woke up and smacked his ass.”

 

As choked sobs could be heard, he remembered a song. Music had never been his favourite pastime but he enjoyed the imagined sound of crackling piano nevertheless, the raspy voice echoing its way through his head. As the melody found his mind, the one which Jongin liked to play while heartbroken, the one which remixed version had been played at the party, he shut his eyes and sighed. _What I care about now is to see you cry, because I’ve cried._ In sudden panic recalling the next line, he ignored the sharp pain shooting through his chest and pressed his face against the pillow again, for a moment wondering how the smell of cigarette smoke and washed-out cum could feel so nice, so welcoming despite reminding him of that he was probably not the last person who had been in that bed.

 

Bitterness was still simmering inside of him when he felt Yixing’s body straddle his from behind, the other squeezing him desperately through the covers while sniffling quietly. He still felt mad but he refrained from saying anything, because as the other’s tears soaked the fabric of his shirt and wetted his neck, a contented grin found his tired lips. Somehow, he felt rather good about being the cause of those tears.

 

 

_many hours later_

 

“You going to bed?” Sehun asked as Yixing rose from the couch, dragging his small, bare feet across the rough, wooden floor. Few words had been exchanged throughout the night but although the bitter silence had been slightly uncomfortable, they had remained next to each other, for hours reading sluggishly in order to catch up on neglected studies.

 

“Yeah,” Yixing mumbled drowsily, tired eyes refracting the low beams sent by the morning sun. “Gonna smoke first.” He grabbed a package of matches and made way towards the balcony, only to pause and bite his lips. “Are you staying?”

 

Sehun didn’t look up. He had been expecting that question, even waited for it, because although he had at this point shared Yixing’s bed more than once, the other still seemed to assume that he didn’t want to. He sighed inaudibly, without tearing his gaze away from the book he wasn’t really reading mumbling a response.

 

“Only if you want me too.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want to - he just wanted to give the other a choice. An opportunity to throw him away if needed, to for once and for all realize that their friendship was more pernicious than flourishing. Maybe, deep inside, Sehun wished for that to happen, because that way, he wouldn’t keep hurting himself like this. If thrown away now, he wouldn’t keep returning.

 

Only a second of silence followed before Yixing kept walking, letting out a quiet “I really want you to, if that’s okay.” Sehun sighed in defeat and put his book aside, rising from the couch. Maybe a cigarette would actually kill him this time, or so he hoped.

 

The air was clear and crispy, too cold to face with only thin blankets to make up for inappropriate clothing. He was used to it, though - Yixing walking around with nothing but a short-sleeved shirt two sizes too large, “ _La vie est fragile_ ” printed onto grey cotton fabric and tight boxer briefs hugging his bony hips while making the fading words seem less insignificant. Sehun shuddered in ease disguised as discontent, turning his gaze to the rising sun and lingering.

 

White clouds escaped their lips even when there was no smoke to leave their lungs and although Yixing kept shaking, too thin to withstand a temperature below zero, he refrained from snuggling up closer. Something seemed to have changed between them and although Sehun knew exactly what was going on, the reasons and details remained undisclosed.

 

Maybe it was fear - for Sehun’s part a fear of embracing the one who would leave too soon, the one who apparently wasn't exclusive enough to want without getting hurt. Maybe Yixing felt fear too, of hugging the one who because of all this kept looking at the horizon, the one whose dark circles testified an accidental overdose due to sudden heartbrokenness. They were both afraid, that much was clear, but neither of them could read the other’s thoughts, see the longing visible beneath heavy eyelids. They were both afraid but neither of them said anything, because although they unknowingly wanted the same thing, they also knew that it could never happen.

 

One of them would leave. The other would stay behind.

 

Sehun sighed, watching as the toxic smoke emerging from his nostrils dissolved and faded. Yixing cussed quietly, with plump yet cold lips sucking on fresh burns caused by an almost burnt out cigarette. “Fuck.” Another one. 

 

It was almost funny, how they had in just a little more than two, short months went from blabbering and bickering to saying nothing at all. While it was true that Sehun would with his eyes still keep seeking Yixing out, welcoming him into his arms whenever met with that pouty face, he knew now that things would never get back to how they were when they had just met. Now, as he followed Yixing’s unfocused gaze to the ground where it always rested, he sighed again and inhaled the other’s smoke. _If only you would look up for once, to look at the sky and realize that things aren’t as simple as you want them to be_.

 

A single magpie flew by when Yixing tossed his cigarette away, exhaling the last of what would eventually kill him. He always smoked faster, usually two by the time Sehun had smoked one despite them both preferring long ones, but although the night was long since over and that morning traffic could now be heard, he didn’t turn to walk inside. Instead shuffling just a little bit closer, he reached for his package of cigarettes and opened it, humming softly yet melancholically.

 

“Another one?” Sehun asked, the words a mere mumble between lips that were encircling the white, burning stick. His tongue still tasted like death, he thought at least, since days back having been trying to forget the sensation. That one night had offered him a glimpse of it, a small sample of what it felt like to die, but although he could still easily summon the memory of hallucinations in which he had fucked Yixing next to Luhan who lay chopped into pieces, the image of Mephistopheles seemed to be fading. Next to him, huddled up beneath the thin blanket and much closer than before, Yixing kept shivering.

 

“No, just checking. I’m gonna have to buy more tomorrow.” He sighed and followed Sehun’s gaze for the first time, squinting at the horizon only to look away after a second as if the light hurt him. “Today.”

 

He waited patiently, stood there shaking with his legs bare and touching winter air, and Sehun wondered why, _why_ he would remain freezing when there were neither soothing words or warm touches to keep him at ease. He could have gone to back to bed, could have pouted and whined and thrown a tantrum until Sehun tossed his own cigarette away and followed him, yet he didn’t. He just stood there silently, _waiting_ , until Sehun’s fire had devoured the filter and until there were not only one, but two people shaking.

 

As Sehun eventually claimed the spot closest the wall, beneath the sheets determined to just fall asleep without having to live trough something he would later come to regret, Yixing remained seated on the edge. With glazed eyes staring anywhere but at the already lying one, he did with his teeth biting into soft lips seem to be thinking, considering something deeply.

 

“What are you doing?” Sehun watched with suddenly wide eyes as boxer briefs got wriggled out of and dropped to the floor, the other diving quickly beneath the covers as if his naked body had not already been shamelessly on display before. Yixing didn’t look at him when he responded, but the light flush on his face did not go unnoticed.

 

“I usually sleep naked,” he mumbled as he sank deeper into the bed, a hitherto unseen shyness revealing itself in the way he avoided Sehun’s limbs despite having had him inside, pushing and pulling and marking. “Do you mind?”

 

Sehun just shrugged, feeling his own cheeks heat up yet managing to keep his voice steady. “I guess not.” Sudden nervousness was given such a situation not something which should have been considered strange, but since the body resting before him had been his twice before, naked and marred and aching to be abused, he didn’t know what caused this feeling. A relit spark? A realization that although he had been inside this person, he didn’t have the right to claim him? He pressed his lips together and fought the pain, still wondering why Yixing was acting so differently. “But why?”

 

There was no sincerity in the smile offered in response and although the words were not easily argued with, it felt as they weren’t conveying the whole truth. “I just do it. It’s more comfortable,” was the answer and if Sehun was to be honest, he didn’t feel like protesting. He didn’t have the energy to fight or investigate.

 

There was a pause in meager conversation before he dropped a simple “okay”, ridding himself of his own underwear before tossing them over Yixing, barely registering the sound of them landing among the clothes scattered across the floor. He caught the way Yixing raised his eyebrows in surprise but he didn’t keep his eyes open, instead opting to escape everything by inviting self-induced darkness to calm his senses.

 

“Me too.” He could feel the other gaze on him, could despite turning around to face the wall feel Yixing staring at him with those wide eyes making him look as if he had just seen something indescribable. In a moment of self-scrutiny recalling his own intentions, he realized that there weren’t any - he had just done on a whim, impulsively deciding to follow the other’s action without any hope of causing a situation in which one of them would end up ripped open and leaking.

 

Neighbours could be heard arguing outside the front door but neither of them paid it any attention as Yixing shifted uncomfortably, his naked body still at a fair distance. His voice sounded weak, almost fragile when he spoke, his choice of words revealing a small glimpse of what was going on inside that peculiar yet delicate mind of his.

 

“Don’t you share with Jongin..?” he asked, and Sehun would have been lying when claiming that he had not seen it coming.

 

“Yes? We’re friends.” The bitterness poured from his lips like liquid, manifesting itself in a question which tasted almost as bad as if not worse than the bile and blood that had coated his tongue only yesterday. “What’s the difference?” Yixing trembled, voiceless stutters being the only response for seconds, but as the answer finally came, Sehun did for the first time in his life wonder if words could kill.

 

“None, I guess.”

 

Yixing was right. There was no difference. They were friends.

 

“Goodnight, Yixing.”

 

In some peculiar way, Sehun still fell asleep to the feeling of breath hitting his neck, arms locked softly around his naked waist. He liked it, just like he always did and always would, but the bitterness still lingered, the self-pity disguised as anger tickling his every limb. He loved the sensation, the warmth brought by Yixing’s cheek pressing against his nape and bare legs resting inappropriately yet nicely between his own, and as he drew his last awake breath, his lips were curled up in an unconscious smile. Maybe he forgave him in that moment, accepted all flaws and decided to savour the time they had left, or maybe his bitterness only grew. He didn’t know but neither did he want to, which was why he without fighting let sleep save him the pain or pleasure of finding out.

 

-

 

A loud crash pulled him out of sleep, having him sit up straight and with barely open eyes scan the room in search of the source. Yixing cussed loudly where he lay half-dressed on the floor, slurred profanities or what at least sounded like it leaving his wine-stained lips as he grabbed a handful of shattered glass and crushed it between bleeding fingers. Sehun stared, for some reason not nearly as surprised as he should have been.

 

“Are you _drunk?_ ” he almost shouted after registering the time. Nine thirty, far from noon. Only hours had passed since they had fallen asleep, yet Yixing was crawling among broken wine bottles, leaving trails of red on every surface he dragged his bloodstained palms across.

 

“Maybe,” he slurred, a distorted grin finding his face but fading when he tried to rise to his feet only to stumble and hit his for some reason already bruised face against the table edge. Sehun hurriedly wriggled into his own clothes, cursing under his breath. Well, there went the “deep talk”. Not that he would have initiated anything like that, anyway.

 

“You fool,” he murmured softly as he grabbed the drunken one’s contorted face, with the nearest shirt wiping the small amounts of blood away from palms and wherever they had touched. Yixing’s sudden giggles mixed with hiccups and humming, but Sehun could only sigh and groan although pityingly, wondering if his life will ever return to its previously boring state. “You’re a fool, Yixing.” The said one all but purred as he leaned against his chest, slack arms too weak for him to cling, and although Sehun knew that his own concern would be the death of himself, he couldn’t stop his fingers from caressing a protruding spine, his lips from mumbling anxiously into soft hair. “Sometimes I wonder what is wrong with you. I’d really like to know.”

 

Cuts caused by broken bottles were luckily not bad enough to require more than bandaids, and soon, Sehun gave up on both mental and physical health. “Normal” actually began to sound quite appealing as he listened to the steady stream of foreign words spilling from Yixing’s lips as they huddled up beneath the covers again, but since he knew that normalcy was for them unachievable, that was one of the reasons why he soon found himself gulping whatever little alcohol was left in order to step up his own suffering. Life was pointless and he had already invited death to take him, anyway, so a mild case of post-concussion caused by too much drugs didn’t stop him from escaping reality once more. Although, the truth was closer to him not having the energy nor strength to handle the other while in a sober state himself.

 

A few hours later and Yixing had been everywhere - the floor, the couch, the space beneath his bed, even the top of the stove when he on a whim had decided to ascend his kitchenette counter. The worst phase had now passed but although he had been prohibited from further drinking by a slightly worried Sehun who had in vain been trying to catch up, he now lay spread out across the floor, squirming uncontrollably and with lingering inebriation tickling his restless limbs.

 

“I’m so horny,” he groaned loudly, extending his arms only to let his palms slap the floor repeatedly. “I wish someone would just come and take me raw. Make me bleed and scream.” Sehun raised an eyebrow where he sat reclining on the couch, his own limb tired and heavy yet twitching in slight discomfort at the sudden confession.

 

“Is that so,” was all he could let out, already sober enough to fear where this could potentially be heading. Grabbing the nearest book without even registering the title written with foreign letters, he opened a random page and pretended to read only to find the apparently talkative Yixing refuse him the relief of suffering in silence.

 

“I don’t really get this whole sex-thing, Sehun.” The usual pout had returned but his eyebrows were furrowed, making him look as if he was trying to solve some complicated equation. “What’s so nice about having your dick in someone’s ass?”

 

Sehun actually looked up, too flustered by the inappropriate question to even remember that he was trying to let this topic die. To say that it didn’t leave him curious in response would have been a lie, and seeing as he was tipsy and furthermore inquisitive by nature - given only if the field of study was interesting enough - he stopped caring about what this dangerous matter might result in.

 

“You’ve never had your dick in anyone?” he asked as he put the book aside, heaving himself up a bit in order to sit straight and meet Yixing’s gaze. To find the other much less loaded than expected had even pleasantly surprised, in spite of inebriation being a good excuse to linger on these kind of questions.

 

“I did it once. Didn’t like it,” Yixing responded as he stopped squirming, instead of rolling around now examining the ceiling as eye contact was broken. Sehun kept looking at him, awaiting the great explanation which at first seemed to turn out quite dry. “It just didn’t feel right, you know, I can’t really describe it. And furthermore,” A disappointed sigh escaped his lips but something found Yixing’s eyes, a growing fire burning behind corneas as he sat up and crawled towards the couch faster than a spider, positioning himself between Sehun’s legs while kneeling. “I like it when it hurts. When it gets ruined.”

 

His fingers were already touching thighs when Sehun jerked a bit, unsettled by how the other’s voice sounded daring enough for those words to be considered a challenge. The fire only grew but it looked almost comical, how Yixing followed his every move from where he sat on the floor, eager hands all covered in bandaids and eyes wide open like those of a madman. Sehun kept leaning backwards, for some absurd reason feeling a tiny bit intimidated.

 

“I know you like pain, but, uhm… What?” He wanted to find out, yet not, because a revelation of whatever deranged kink Yixing might have had besides pain and the humiliation of getting strangled against the wall did have the potential to lure the two _friends_ even further into the land of platonic fucking. Considering to break the topic now despite having just asked, he was just to shove the other’s hands away until Yixing retreated a bit, letting just one armrest heavily over the tense lap instead of grabbing. Another spark found the latter’s gaze again, the surface of his eyes almost glittering as he moved his free hand in front of him dramatically, with outstretched fingers forming an invisible bow as if he was describing something absolutely beautiful.

 

“ _Ruined orgasms_.” His hand remained hovering before him as he stared into nothingness, not noticing the almost horrified expression finding the face of Sehun who sat frozen, wondering just what the odds of finding such an insane friend were. “The uttermost form of humiliation.” He sighed contentedly and fell back to lie on the floor, arms folded comfortably behind his neck as he let his eyes return to their usual half-lidded state. “It’s an art form,” he concluded matter-of-factly, causing Sehun’s confusion to do nothing than intensify.

 

“...bottoming is an art form?” he shuddered a bit at the sound of his own question, because never before had he been able to maintain a conversation like this. Not even Jongin who was bolder than most had managed to lure any sex-related words out of his roommate, but then again was Yixing even bolder, special in a way that could not be described.

 

Rolling his eyes, the latter sat up straight again, as if not being able to cope with Sehun’s apparent stupidity shaking his head violently before gesturing dramatically with both hands.

 

“ _Suffering._ ”

 

Sehun could at this point not offer any more involved response than a raised eyebrow. Sure, he too enjoyed the feeling of a dick filling up his ass really nicely - he had until he met Yixing usually been the one pounded against some wall - but never had he really considered his sexual preferences a philosophical statement or anything alike. Suddenly unable to refrain from chuckling lightly at the absurdity of what he had just heard, he sent the lunatic between his legs an amused glance. Yixing was, indeed, a step ahead of him.

 

A minute of silence followed as the air between them grew a bit less hot, the somewhat rousing meaning of those passionately ranted words sinking in, fully registering. A composed, rather tired expression replaced Yixing’s eccentric one as he leaned against Sehun’s leg and sighed deeply, and although a small pout found his face, it didn’t look as childish as usual.

 

“Well, I’m horny anyways,” he muttered after a while, avoiding eye contact while sucking on his own lower lip, fingers stroking thighs that weren’t as tense anymore. There was at this point no way to deny the ulterior motives hiding behind his every shallow sigh, revealing itself to Sehun through every tentative touch. He wanted something and Sehun knew exactly what, and although the latter wasn’t dumb, his still tipsy self was certainly stupid for considering and masochistic enough to come to a decision.

 

Lowering his hand to comb through hair, letting it drop to a puffy cheek and fondle, he threw away all fears and inhibitions and gave in to longing made unhindered by alcohol. He hated Yixing for doing this to him, hated himself even more for falling for it, but the surprised yet delighted look in the other’s eyes when he raised his head automatically had him drop everything for just a while. He knew that it would eventually come to this, that it would always end like this, for although he had only last night wondered whether to just walk away and cut all ties, he had already accepted his own lack of discipline.

 

“Pain?” he asked as if he didn’t already know, and Yixing nodded, bringing out that cute yet daring smile.

 

“Surprise me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ruined orgasm = if after removal of stimulation, an orgasm still occurs, it is considered "ruined". This also applies if a man is stimulated only anally, i.e. "milked", which is the case in this fanfic.


	10. Chapter 10

Sehun had never really contemplated on whether or not he would be able to inflict pain fit for sexual situations, but the current circumstances made it easy for him to just pour all of his frustration and suppressed anger into fucking Yixing hard and raw against the floor.

 

Rough in a way he had never been before, merciless in a way he had never dreamt of being. It was as his brain had short-circuited the moment Yixing straddled his lap, making him rise and push and watch as the other fell to the floor with a aroused giggle spilling from lips that were curling in ecstasy despite the pain. It was all done in a haze, yet not, because as he with a dizzy mind admired the sight of Yixing gasping for air when his pretty face got pressed against the floor, the divulging of his own sadistic tendencies had him in a state of sudden self-awareness. He felt light, almost transcendent, and although there was no way to explain the perverse satisfaction of having Yixing squirm and whimper beneath his weight, he found that explanations were laughably unnecessary.

 

Choked but elated mewls filled the air as he watched his cock disappear into Yixing’s unstretched hole, and the floored one did despite his painful screams and struggling limbs look happier than ever. Skin prickled when nails pressed into hipbones and even though Yixing tried to free his arms without success, he still let the words “ _yes_ ” and “ _more_ ” slip from his shiny lips and mix with the otherwise pleading noises. He coughed, fought and whimpered, yet he looked as if he was exactly where he wanted to be.

 

He painted the already stained carpet white when he came, his orgasm arriving in waves and eyes squeezing shut in delightful dissatisfaction. Sehun hadn’t touched him, had in memory of those previous protests not even tried to do so, but he had neither the time nor concentration to wonder exactly why the other favoured a ruined orgasm over a regular one, a _normal_ one.

 

Grabbing already bruised wrists to pull weak arms back until squeals of delightful suffering left lips slicked with drool, Sehun kept his hips snapping and slamming despite knowing that Yixing had already orgasmed. There was a kind of indescribable pride to hearing those breathless whines get muffled by the dirty carpet when the other tried to bite down in vain, and that was rather than Yixing’s impossibly tight ass what caused him to admit, even enjoy the fact that this would probably keep happening until they parted. For some absurd yet legitimate reason, he found himself wanting to punish the boy beneath him, bestow disciplinary pain in order to alleviate his own anger and satisfy his hunger. He wanted to chastise Yixing for doing this to him - for forcing himself into his life, for stirring up his feelings, for letting that older man fuck him on the day which seemed so long ago.

 

For kissing Luhan. For sleeping with Luhan.

 

Sehun pulled out, letting go of Yixing’s wrists only to turn him around and lift his back off the floor. Placing a soft peck on the crying one’s cheek before pounding into him again, he tasted the salt and let bitterness mix with satisfaction. There was no knowing whether the one who kept moaning so blissfully through tears had actually let Luhan inside, but Sehun guessed, quite accurately so. He would have been naive to think otherwise, and if anything, Sehun refused to be naive.

 

-

 

He didn't even care at this point. They did it again, and again, and again, most of the time against various areas of Yixing’s apartment, vertical as well as horizontal, but also in Sehun’s bed, couch or on his kitchen table whenever Jongin happened to spend the night at Chanyeol’s. Even the deepest corridor of the university library would soon become their unholy sanctuary, whenever Yixing got too desperate acting as their secret refuge in which others were close, yet not watching. There, Sehun would fuck him mercilessly behind some shelf, making dust fall from 18th-century books every time he shoved inside Yixing who had to bite his own tongue in order to not attract an audience.

 

Only a month had passed since that party, but once a week turned into once a day and soon, Sehun had fucked Yixing enough to make a living out of pornos in case they had been filmed. So many times had he had the other beneath him - vulnerable, panting, moaning, asking for more - yet, he had not let himself taste those plump lips. Not once.

 

-

 

It was only early afternoon when Sehun first realised that exhibitionism wasn’t beyond Yixing’s yet indisclosed boundaries. “Help me find a book,” were the innocent words whispered close in a way that was far from innocent, and Sehun saw right through it. Yet, he uttered no protests, following willingly when Yixing grabbed his hand and left all of their belongings unsupervised. Staircase after staircase was descended before they found themselves in the dusty section of the library basement, and although Yixing falling to his knees had been unexpected, it was not even close to unwelcomed.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” was the only thing Sehun managed to let out as his belt hit the floor, but the shaky words did nothing to stop Yixing on his mission to let their fuckbuddy-relationship escape the safe walls of either of their apartments. The shelf against which he was leaning had months of dust stain his shirt but although another day of laundry wasn’t desirable, his shocked self didn’t even notice.

 

“You seemed stressed.” Yixing licked his lips while he worked on Sehun’s zipper, with that cute, typical smile peeking up from behind his fringe as eager hands slipped beneath fabric. “I’m unstressing you.” He giggled, creating a most ridiculous contrast between sweet and forbidden as his eager fingers wrapped around an already stiffening length. “Get it? Unstressing, it sounds like-”

 

There was no time for laughter and neither for explanations. Sehun knew that this was crazy but his heart did as usual beat too fast for him to care, even when unfamiliar footsteps started echoing from the corridor next to the one in which they were hiding. Yixing’s lips felt so good wrapped around him, sucking and licking and causing the lewdest of noises, and although his hands clutching the kneeling one’s hair were rough when he fucked right into his mouth mercilessly, Yixing still smiled through it all. Tears escaped the corners of the latter's eyes when he eventually gagged on cum but that didn’t stop him from zooming out in pleasure afterwards, smacking his shiny lips cutely as if he had just enjoyed a full course dinner.

 

“Yum,” he all but purred while from his kneeling position hugging the panting Sehun’s legs tightly, with an innocent voice telling him just how good his cum tasted. A far too detailed explanation of how indescribably wonderful it felt to have his mouth abused left his swollen lips but Sehun was breathing too heavily to squirm, too shocked to even worry about getting walked in on. Yixing had never talked this way before but although it sounded more like a pornographic horror film than pillow talk, Sehun did deep inside not really mind. The words spilling from those swollen, cumstained lips sounded nice, for some strange reason almost beautiful, and although Yixing was far from unbroken, Sehun certainly took pride in ruining him.

 

Yixing didn’t ask him to fuck afterwards and that was, somehow - rather than the trail of white staining his messy fringe and catching the attention of the librarian when they later ascended the stairs - what made the whole situation even more perverse. Suppressed giggles were exchanged as they found their way back to their seats and Sehun did for just one short moment actually forget all about whatever complicated feelings were simmering inside of him. He found himself genuinely loving it - the idea of Yixing falling to his knees obediently without even having been asked, taking Sehun into his mouth as if the world around them didn’t exist. He found himself loving Yixing, the one who with pink, puffy cheeks would throw a tantrum because of the cold only to hours later look so beautiful with the remains of Sehun pouring down his throat and dripping from his lips. He loved everything about this boy, in some fucked up moments even how he would let Luhan cling to him in the cafeteria and thus begging to get punished. It was an unspoken exchange and Sehun wasn’t sure if Yixing knew of his jealousy, but little did it matter as long as they both enjoyed it, and oh, did they enjoy it.

 

Oh, yes. They _loved_ it

 

-

 

Sehun had not been home for days when he found himself dragged out of Yixing's bed, naked and panting and with his lingering erection meeting cold air. Soon wrapped in the same, thin blanket as the other, he cringed and shivered as breath turned into steam but relaxed once a cigarette’s worth of nicotine found its way through his system.

 

“This is nice,” Yixing hummed as he shut his eyes and leant back, pulling Sehun’s free arm to wrap around his frame from behind. The sun was not rising as usual but fading, setting at a speed much faster than it rose, with its still cold beams illuminating the dark stripes painting one boy’s neck and wrists purple. Sehun did in spite of the drowsiness following sex not shut his own eyes, because as he watched the thick smoke leaving Yixing’s nostrils, he could pretend that things had not turned out like this. What they did was, after all and despite him giving up on resistance, complicated.

 

The snow never seemed to stop falling, with its tiny flakes wetting their burning sticks, creating small patches of dark grey contrasting the otherwise bleached paper. A sigh escaped Sehun’s lips as crystals melted only to freeze again on his bare skin, but even though he with a frown wondered how snow could still fall below zero, he enjoyed it in a way.

 

 _An oasis in this wasteland_. He chuckled without feeling. _Somehow_.

 

Yixing shifted in his loose grasp, tossing his cigarette away only to turn his head and with a tired smile light a new one with the glow of Sehun’s. There was something about him, something that was always there but in that moment particularly palpable, but Sehun couldn’t figure it out. Sure, there were many such things - secrets that maybe not even Yixing himself was aware of - because although his sexual intentions were by now as translucent as the melted snowflakes, his mind had turned out to be as impenetrable as steel.

 

“What are you scared of, Yixing?” Sehun suddenly let out, causing the asked one to look up with a confused expression. He wanted to know _something_ , something that didn’t have anything to do with deranged kinks or pretentious philosophical statements. “What frightens you?”

 

Yixing turned back to face the darkening sky stretched out above the still awake city, eyes unfocusing as he let the cigarette burn between his bruised lips without really sucking.

 

“Walls,” he answered without mumbling, the fire of his stick getting reflected on his corneas. Sehun just stared in disbelief, hoping that the answer was in reference to something metaphorical but nonetheless unconvinced by his own reasoning. A few seconds of silence followed as the now dead cigarette fell to the ground below them, flying past many floors of windows, but Yixing’s eyes spoke volumes when he turned back around and placed a shy peck on Sehun's bare chest, all while smiling sadly. “And death. I don’t want to die. Not ever.”

 

Sehun didn’t know what it meant but he didn’t dare to ask. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he thought that maybe, _maybe_ , the answer would be better left unknown.

 

He smiled in pain, despite his hurting chest pinching Yixing’s cheek while chuckling.

 

“We’re all gonna die, silly. Let’s go back to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you again for commenting and leaving kudos! ♡


	11. Chapter 11

“I do not think, therefore I am a moustache!” Yixing shouted aloud as he shot out the library chair, his eyes wide like a madman’s and his finger pointing straight up as if his answer to Sehun’s impromptu riddle was actually not complete nonsense.

 

Narrowing his eyes, Sehun gazed at him incredulously. A choked laughter was all he managed to let out, for some reason amazed by this peculiar creature. He had seen Yixing strangled, screaming, and struggling with several loads of cum running from his stretched entrance, yet this what was he liked most about him; his occasional stupidity, his incurable childishness. His free mind, the light in his eyes that would cease to shine so brightly only by harsh hands pressing firmly against his neck.

 

Cocking his eyebrow when Yixing remained standing with a finger in the air, he grabbed his arm and pulled him down back to sit.

 

“No.”

 

Yixing’s crazed but nonetheless agog expression turned into his usual pout when Sehun dragged him out of silly illusions, and as his bottom hit the chair again, he crossed his arms and sulked.

 

“It’s Sartre,” he murmured while sending Sehun an evil glance. Still clearing his throat, he raised his voice enough to have people all around stare at them in annoyance. “To expand; _my cut hand hurts, exist, exist, exist. The handsome gentleman exists, the Legion of Honour_ -”

 

A pen to his forehead cut him off and he whined petulantly, squeezing his eyes shut for a second as if the pain wasn’t a trifle compared to what he liked. Sehun, however, could not help but chuckle.

 

“I know, silly,” he said in an attempted whisper, continuing to tap Yixing’s brow only to find his hand shoved away. He was very well acquainted with the existential classics, the basics of modern philosophy. “But it’s wrong. It’s just nonsense. Roquentin was just mad.”

 

“Then what are you?” Yixing asked immediately, eyes narrowed and gaze sceptical. “I thought you'd call him enlightened.”

 

The librarian hushed them but it went straight past Sehun who just rolled his eyes. He knew he would come across as pretentious, but there was no way that he’d let Yixing win this rather puerile quarrel.

 

“There’s a difference between crazy and mad, Xing,” he snorted in feigned pique, puckering his lips like some tipsy bourgeoisie. “Sartre’s _nausea_ was simply his weakness, his inability to cope with the realisation. _I–_ ” he continued, gesturing ostentatiously with his hand and quite pleased with his own theatricals, “–would never let enlightenment get the best of me.”

 

Yixing wouldn’t have it. Rolling his eyes before blowing raspberries straight at Sehun who giggled, he grabbed the pen and returned the previous beating.

 

“You’re always so pretentious,” he half-whined, half-hissed, not minding the noise he was making while trying to cover Sehun’s face in admiral blue ink, failing. “Are you gonna tell me the answer or not?”

 

He gave up the fight and dropped the pen to the floor, his pale, yet pinkish cheeks puffed up and resting against the palm of his small hand. Sehun could not help but smile despite the prospects of getting kicked out of their second favourite study place.

 

“No,” he replied, smiling mischievously before turning back to his book. “I’ll let you figure it out yourself.”

 

Silence followed for a few minutes, but by the time his proud grin had faded by the help of forced concentration, Yixing grabbed his arm and dragged him down the stairs to fuck. He didn’t have time to question it but neither would he have done so, because he had long ago given into these offhand sessions. He just let it happen, quite happily so, and although they didn’t kiss just like they never did, he didn’t really care. It didn’t matter anymore.

 

Pushing Yixing against their usual set of dusty bookshelves, he pulled down their jeans and pressed his already stiffening length against the malnourished, yet somewhat soft ass before him. Fingers were needed but he resisted the urge to disobey his friend’s usual wishes, for even though he had on multiple occasions longed for something more like lovemaking, he wasn’t one to misbehave. He had turned out to be a mere follower, after all, and Yixing was his leader.

 

Wrapping his fingers around the thin, constantly bruised neck, as usual, he pressed inside with only spit to act as lube. It hurt him to enter, just like it always did, to force his member into someone without any preparation at all. Yet, the pain he suffered was nothing compared to that of his friend. To say that Yixing was suffering from it would, however, be a ridiculous lie.

 

Sehun was since long used to it; overcoming his own pain and putting up with Yixing’s need for more. He knew every little twitch and what caused them, every quiet whimper and every loud moan. He knew that Yixing was loud as fuck but that he would also shut himself up in order to not get caught, but never had he expected him to go this far. That this certain afternoon would end with something else than them giggling inappropriately in the main hall afterwards had not been on his list of expectations.

 

He was just about to shoot inside when he felt gushes of warm liquid run over his hands that were still wrapped tightly around Yixing’s neck. Pulling back with an exhausted gasp that could barely be heard over gurgled moans, he spilt his seed all over the other’s exposed ass and back. Satisfaction mixed with instant worry when he looked at his own hands in terror, watching blood drip from his fingertips.

 

“What... “ he mumbled, not able to form any coherent sentences. Distant footsteps could be heard but he didn’t care nor even register them, and the sight of Yixing turning around to face him didn’t really help allay his fears.

 

He had already figured that this friend of his was incurably masochistic, yet had he not expected him to smile this brightly in spite of the blood running down his lips and chin. Yixing had bit his tongue in order to not attract an audience, teeth cutting into soft flesh just as they were both about to come, and now he was giggling as if it was the funniest thing on Earth.

 

They left in a rush because Sehun refused to listen. “I’m fine, really,” was what Yixing kept pleading after him, his wrist captured by a bloody hand as they hurried past students who stared blatantly while exchanging whispers. “I’ll just wash my face in the restroom,” he kept requesting with blood still flowing from his mouth, but his continued imploring did nothing to pause Sehun’s steps.

 

Inappropriate orgasms and dangerous choking were all forgotten when the library’s quaint interior was replaced by daylight and snow. Still holding onto Yixing’s wrist, ignoring the continuous protests, Sehun kept walking with determined steps towards the campus health centre. He had been too inattentive, too engrossed in fucking into Yixing’s all too tight hole to even notice that the other had been hurt. Perhaps things were getting out of hand, he thought for a moment, muttering profanities while blocking out his friend’s whines. Maybe he was stupid for doing this, he thought for the hundreth time since it all started; sleeping with someone whom he had already admitted feeling a little too much for, strangling him as if it was nothing, taking him in public until blood joined the stains of cum visible on the shelves against which they liked to fuck. Giving into his own sadistic tendencies, allowing Yixing to drain him of whatever healthy principles had been there before.

 

He felt debauched and ashamed, and that was why he didn’t turn around at the sound of who must have been Baekhyun calling their names with a worried voice. He kept walking with his bloodstained fingers locked around Yixing’s thin wrist, but not even a minute had passed before he suddenly found himself pushed to the ground from behind.

 

Yixing was already crying, screaming foreign words when Sehun received a kick to his lower back. Groaning loudly, the latter heaved himself up, deeply unsettled, yet not really surprised by the sight of Baekhyun restraining a certain beautiful exchange student.

 

If Luhan had been an animal, he had been foaming at the mouth. Forcing himself out of Baekhyun’s grasp, he made another leap towards the now standing Sehun who, if he was to be honest, could not blame him. Yixing did, after all, look rather terrible with parts of his face painted red and with fresh purple stripes adorning his abused neck.

 

Pausing only when the hurt one stepped between them, Luhan cussed through clenched teeth at Sehun who stood speechless. He looked ready to jump, yet Yixing refused to step aside, and Sehun had to admit that it was all a bit frightening. The look on Luhan’s face was that of someone who wouldn’t hesitate to bring out a knife, and although Sehun wouldn’t be the one to step out of a fight with this particular person, he didn’t want anything shoved in him just yet. Getting murdered by Baekhyun’s crazy fuckbuddy, borderline boyfriend was not his preferred way to die in, after all.

 

Baekhyun seemed just as dumb as him when Luhan spat one last round of profanities, giving up on combat before grabbing his best friend’s arm. A few fellow students had gathered around them but none of them said anything, and the silence was, in the end, broken only by Yixing who in that moment looked like less of a child than Sehun had ever seen him.

 

“I’m fine, Lulu. Let me go,” he demanded in vain, tugging at the hand that was dragging him away. His tears had already dried and he looked next to annoyed, talking to his friend who refused to comply. “I said let me-”

 

“ _No._ You're going with me.”

 

“Lulu, please-”

 

“We’re going to my place. Yifan has a first-aid-kit and Zitao-”

 

Sehun could almost not believe his eyes, and Baekhyun gasped in utter surprise when Yixing pulled back with force while cussing. Pushing Luhan away from himself, he widened his eyes and shouted with a voice sounding so much different from his high-pitched, horny whimpers.

 

“Leave alone, _Lu Han_ , I said I’m _fine!_ ”

 

Blood was still dripping from his chin, but that did suddenly not seem to matter to his best friend who looked more taken aback than all of the others combined. Stumbling a bit backwards in shock, Luhan opened his mouth as if to speak only to let out voiceless words when Yixing grabbed Sehun’s arm and pulled him closer.

 

“Let’s go,” Yixing muttered, avoiding his friend’s pleading gaze. Tears had gathered in Luhan’s eyes, a look of utter betrayal slapped onto his face, yet he didn’t do anything now in spite of having swung his foot at Sehun only moments ago. Standing there frozen, watching the backs of the two others walking away arm in arm, he ignored the surprisingly embarrassed Baekhyun who tried to pull him inside.

 

Sehun didn’t know what else to do but follow. His back hurt and his hands were cold and bloody, but none of that registered as an unwanted feeling came creeping up his spine. Unable to say anything, to rant or apologise nor do anything at all, he simply kept walking in the same pace as Yixing. He zoomed out, haunted by sudden pity. He abhorred Luhan, had done so for months despite not having met him properly, yet the image of that sad face seemed to have etched itself onto his very corneas. Against his own crooked reasoning, he did for the first time pity Yixing’s best friend; not because he had in any way changed his mind, but because he somehow, deep inside, realised that he knew what feelings had hidden behind that fallen expression.

 

-

 

“So when are you gonna stop doing this?” Luhan asked the next day, not able to stand just sitting next to his friend in silence. No answer came, and so he sighed deeply. Perhaps he shouldn’t have sounded so annoyed, he thought. “Okay, I get it. You’ve been grumpy at me lately, Xing, I know, but please, just tell me why. It’s the walls again, isn’t it? Are you taking your medication?”

 

Yixing kept quiet, staring at the television screen, pretending to watch the cartoon Yifan had turned on for him when he arrived earlier. Sighing again, Luhan waved a hand in front of his detached friend only to find it shoved away. He snapped, in light of yesterday’s events unable to cope with this silent treatment.

 

“Why won’t you talk to me, goddamnit?” he yelled, causing Yixing to flinch only ever so slightly. “We never see each other anymore, fuck- You don’t even answer my calls! Here I am worrying about you for over a week while you hang out with that brat, and now you won’t even-”

 

“He’s not a brat, he’s my friend.”

 

He paused, inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm down. He was close to hurling Yixing through the window in a fit, but such an act would surely leave him grieving for the rest of his life. His anger was, after all, the product of worry and frustration.

 

“ _Friend?_ ” he asked instead of doing something violent, yet ignoring the cautioning glances sent by Yifan who was observing them from the kitchen. Yixing kept his gaze fixed on the screen, his eyes following the movements of his favourite character.

 

“Yes.”

 

“A friend who fucks you-”

 

“You do that, too-”

 

“But you love him, not me.”

 

Finally giving into eye contact, Yixing glared at him, unable to protest. The sound of Zitao blasting rap music in his room was the only thing accompanying that of the television, and the lack of words had Luhan swallow painfully. It would have been a lie to say that he hadn’t hoped for his best friend to deny it, even though he had long ago given up on hope.

 

“I’m right, am I not?” he asked, almost whispering, when Yixing turned back to face the screen. The lump in his throat grew bigger as every new second passed without a word, but he wasn’t one to show his tears. Instead opting to reason, he leant back and fought his jealousy. “See, I am. You love him,” he said matter-of-factly, determined to at least save his friend from heartbreak. “And what are you going to do about that?”

 

“What do you mean ‘ _what am I gonna do about it’?_ ” Yixing suddenly snapped, causing Luhan to lower his voice and murmur admonishingly.

 

“You know what I mean, Xing.”

 

“I certainly do not.”

 

There was a snort and Luhan sighed, well aware of that Yixing knew perfectly well what was being referred to.

 

“Xing,” he mumbled, hoping to bring some sense into his naive friend, yet gaining no response. “ _Yixing._ ”

 

“ _Nothing!_ ” Even Yifan jumped a bit where he was leaning against the counter when Yixing threw the remote control across the room, rising to his feet while hissing through his teeth. “Nothing, Luhan. _That’s_ what I’m gonna do about it.”

 

Stomping away angrily, ignoring the words “ _we’re leaving soon, goddamnit!_ ”, he laced his shoes and slammed the front door shut. There was silence save from Zitao’s annoying music, and not even Yixing’s medical history could stop anger from once again travelling through Luhan in waves.

 

“We’ll see what happens between you two,” he muttered quietly, clenching his fists until fingernails cut into skin. Glaring back at Yifan who raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in disapproval before walking away to join Zitao, he raised his voice and shouted after him.

 

“It’s not my fucking fault! He always makes me look like the bad guy!”

 

Tears were already threatening to fall when he leapt from the couch and ran straight for the balcony. Spotting his friend who had not gotten very far yet, he pressed his lips together and promised himself not to cry. There he was, Yixing who was so, so foolish, his thin sneakers already soaked and phone pressed against his pink, pointy ears. Luhan wouldn’t have had to guess twice to know who was on the other line.

 

“I’ve known you your whole life, idiot,” he mumbled more to himself than to his friend who couldn’t even hear him, his eyes tearing up at the sight of a sudden smile adorning Yixing’s lips, “Your whole life,” he gasped before breaking into sobs, wondering why his stupid, childish, imbecile little Xing only ever fell in love with everyone but _him_.

 

-

 

“People are dumb, Sehun,” Yixing slurred, pounding his bottle of wine against the cold, roof shingles on which they were lying beneath blankets. “They’re. All. _So. Dumb._ ”

 

Rising clumsily to his feet with the bottle still in his hand, he exclaimed loudly, causing winter birds to soar into the air and merge with the pitch black sky which was speckled with thousands of tiny, white dots.

 

“How little you know of human happiness, you comfortable people!” he shouted over the rooftops, the echoes of his shrill voice having old, single-glazed windows vibrate. “The secret of a fulfilled life is: _live dangerously!_ ”

 

He lost his balance, ironically so, just as he was about to scream his lungs out in what he liked to call existential frustration. Sehun, however, only laughed, holding onto his stomach and too drunk to really worry about safety. Still catching his dangerously intoxicated friend who stumbled backwards with a high-pitched squeal, he kept grinning with half-lidded eyes.

 

 _This is nice,_ he thought with a sigh when Yixing huddled up close after falling, sharing his warmth. The head against his shoulder felt heavy, yet comfortably so, and when Yixing grabbed his hand, he once again forgot about how complicated everything was. Sympathy towards the one who had pushed and kicked him in a fit of rage was but a distant memory now, washed away by the soothing rumbling of the never-sleeping city.

 

Squeezing his hand, Yixing raised it above them, letting the contour of Sehun’s fingers grow blurry against the starry sky. There was no other source of light than the streetlights below, yet Yixing turned it slowly while fondling, examining it from every angle as if there was some hidden truth to be found in between those many fine palm lines.

 

“I’m not kidding, though,” he sighed after a while, keeping Sehun’s hand raised, not ceasing to observe it with the attention of a chiromancer despite being drunk enough to fall asleep. “People really are dumb.”

 

He kept searching until his limbs gave in and their hands fell flat against Sehun’s chest, but he never stopped holding onto it. Shuffling even closer, he entangled their clothed legs, causing soft shivers to travel through Sehun’s body and settle in his belly.

 

“I wish they were more like you,” he mumbled, hot breath bouncing against cold, sensitive skin. White clouds left both of their mouths, mixing before dispersing, and Sehun chuckled, causing yet another flow.

 

“Wouldn’t that be boring,” he let out with a tired smile, with his free hand poking the crease between Yixing’s furrowed eyebrows. Yixing, however, kept frowning, creating a rather peculiar contrast to Sehun’s unusual serenity.

 

“Maybe a bit frustrating,” he responded cryptically, shutting his eyes while yawning.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

There came no answer, but Sehun wasn’t one to pry. He had always been inquisitive, yet not openly and especially not while drunk. Instead of asking again, he closed the case with a quiet hum, and as Yixing finally smiled against his shoulder, he, too, shut his own eyes and yawned.

 

“You’re dumb too, Sehun,” he heard when sleep came lurking and the man next to him nuzzled into his neck. The hand in his kept squeezing ever so softly while the other one clutched his shirt, and the last slurred words lulled them both into dreamland. “You’re so… so… stupid... “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been ages since i watched Kill Your Darlings but this last scene made me think of the kiss scene between lu and ginsy ("it's all your fault, ginsy"). now i’m all sad :(


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasty things happen.

Sehun wasn't particularly fond of social gatherings, but he did feel a little bad for having neglected Jongin lately. Therefore agreeing to some “quality time” with his roommate, he funnily enough found himself at Baekhyun's house with a dozen other people.

 

 _Traitor_ , was what he had thought when finding out just how Jongin defined “quality time”, but things had surprisingly enough not turned out that bad.

 

There weren't any colourful patches, nor even alcohol, and he had to admit that Baekhyun wasn't that annoying, after all. Sipping on his iced kombucha or whatever the boy with apparently rich parents liked to call it, he grimaced at the bitterness but relaxed once the realisation of that a change of setting was, in fact, good for him.

 

Music was playing at a moderate volume, complementing the sound of people chatting and laughing. It was all surprisingly nice since Baekhyun’s friends weren’t nearly as crazy as him, and the presence of some friendly guy named Minseok who apparently worked as a barista downtown made up for the suspicious, older guy with tattoos who wouldn’t stop sneaking his hand up Sehun’s thigh.

 

“Why isn’t Xing-Xing here?” Jongin suddenly asked out loud, causing Sehun to look away from “the magician” whose name was, in reality, Jongdae. The eccentric guy had been failing simple card tricks all night, so it didn’t take much for Sehun to shift his attention towards his roommate instead.

 

“He couldn’t make it,” he lied, resisting the urge to gag at that ridiculous nickname. He hadn’t been asked to bring Yixing along but neither had he suggested it himself, and although he didn’t know why, it felt good. It was a pause from reality, from secluded rooftops and needy whimpers.

 

Jongin pouted, seemingly disappointed. He had been whining about wanting to meet “Sehun’s funny exchange student” for weeks, but to no avail.

 

“You’re hiding him from me,” he murmured, tossing a handful of popcorn at Sehun who flinched, unamused. “I’m starting to think you guys are dating or something.”

 

Sehun felt his face heat up, not missing the way Baekhyun coughed as if to cover something up. He didn’t know what to say but neither did he search for any response, and as silence followed, he decided that words are redundant. Wondering why it had all suddenly turned so awkward, he turned his gaze to Chanyeol who, of all people, was squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

 

Another glass of detoxicating liquid was passed to him, this time a radioactive-looking smoothie made from berries that Baekhyun’s father had apparently picked during some trip overseas. Seeking refuge in it when Jongin’s face went blank as if upon a revelation of some great secret, he kept quiet.  Occasionally complimenting Baekhyun’s taste in music or asking Minseok about the art of coffee-brewing, he kept praying that his roommate hadn't realised that the poorly washed stains in their otherwise clean apartment were cum and not milk tea.

 

“Did I tell you guys that I got arrested again, by the way?” Baekhyun suddenly exclaimed after a while, practically jumping out of his seat as he came up with a way to brighten the mood. Everyone stared including Sehun who cocked his brow, judging his coursemate, yet thankful towards him. “So I was just minding my own business when the police showed up, telling me that it was a _restricted area and bla bla bla…_ Sure, maybe they were right, but how does one _truly_ define the term ‘restricted’, huh? Anyway– I tried to tell them nicely to leave me the fuck alone, but then they found my pills and things got out of hand. My parents bailed me out again, of course, but do you know much pride it costs to start crying in front of the district chief when the district chief is your _aunt_? Honestly, they need to chill. I don’t have many crocodile tears left, you know–”

 

The doorbell cut him off, having him pause his monologue just as he was about to start ranting about how all cops were pigs. Sehun wouldn’t have thought much of the sudden disruption, nor even minded another visitor if it hadn’t been for Baekhyun suddenly staring at him, and only him, in what looked like sheer terror.

 

“That must be, uh–” he mumbled, his loss of words having Sehun fear the worst. Scurrying away only to tip-toe back a minute later, he kept his head lowered while holding hands with none other than the person who had only days ago shoved his foot into Sehun’s lower back.

 

Sehun deeply regretted his choice to come there, yet his shocked expression was nothing compared to Luhan’s.

 

“Guys, this is, uh…” Baekhyun coughed when they approached the group of friends, side-eyeing Sehun who didn’t know whether to act like an adult or just make a run for it. “This is Luhan. We’re, uh–”

 

“They already know we’re fucking, Baek, cut the crap.”

 

There was anger, clearly, and a great amount of frustration. Luhan looked ready to either explode or attack Sehun at whom he was glaring, but luck had it that Baekhyun wasn’t one to put up with any bullshit.

 

“I was gonna say dating,” he deadpanned, completely unamused. Tugging at his alleged boyfriend’s hand in an attempt to have him sit down next to Chanyeol, he sent Sehun an apologetic smile before all of a sudden getting dragged away.

 

“You never mentioned Yixing’s little toy,” Luhan hissed as they went back from where they came, and it didn’t take long before the front door got slammed with force, inviting the most excruciating silence.

 

No one asked, but everyone stared. Deeply confused, yet squeezing his roommate’s thigh as if to comfort him, Jongin shifted closer to Sehun who found himself overcome with a longing for death. To think that he had only days ago felt even the slightest pity for Luhan was laughable, yet it was even funnier to recall every intimate moment with Yixing. Every time they had held hands in public, every time Yixing had snuggled up closer after getting thoroughly fucked; the memories of those precious moments seemed to be screaming at the now cold sweating Sehun from the back of his mind.

 

“What a kid,” Baekhyun muttered when he eventually returned alone, rolling his eyes while turning up the music. Sehun, however, was too close to tears to even pray that no one else had understood those words uttered by Luhan.

 

 _Yixing’s little toy_ , he repeated in his dizzy mind, his lips trembling like those of a baby as tears began to roll silently down his cheeks. _A toy_ , he thought, in a moment of clarity realising how stupid he had been for ever believing that Yixing might have felt something more.

 

–

 

“I’m sorry for getting mad at you before, Xing. Please don’t hate me,” Luhan begged when he got home, happy that his friend had at least agreed to come over despite it being past seven. He didn’t dare consider that it might have because Sehun wasn’t free tonight, because the mere thought of that person would probably have him throw up even more that he had done during his walk home.

 

“I don’t hate you,” Yixing murmured, his voice annoyed and barely audible. Still hugging his legs where he had been sitting motionless on Yifan’s bed for minutes, he pouted and moped while looking anywhere but at Luhan. The latter sighed, seating himself next to him.

 

“Can I hug you?” he asked carefully, not yet sure whether draping his arm around Yixing’s shoulder would cause a disaster or not. Waiting patiently to get either rejected or jumped, he bit his lip and wondered why he was still trying. He didn’t want unrequited love to get in the way of their lifelong friendship, of course, but he still knew that every gentle touch, every bruising kiss hurt more than two dicks up his own ass.

 

Still smiling in relief when a silent nod was offered in response, he spread his arms and pulled his friend closer. It was soothing, somehow, the way Yixing quiet snivels testified at least some kind of longing, and although he was painfully aware of how stupid this was, he still gave into it. He loved his little Xing, after all, so much that he would never stop fighting. It didn’t matter what means he would have to seek, cruel or not; he would even shove his dick up the person he hated if that would result in Yixing leaving that certain person.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as if in advance, not minding that the hair tickling his face smelled like tobacco and cum. “I’m so sorry.”

 

 

_a few hours later_

 

“Guys, _please_ ,” Yifan yelled when he stormed into the room he shared with Luhan, disgusted by, yet used to the sight of him exchanging body fluids with Yixing who was even louder than usual. “You’ve been going on for hours, the neighbours are complaining again, and we already have like three warnings! Do you really wanna get evicted?”

 

An exaggerated moan followed when Luhan spread Yixing’s legs further apart than what was healthy, shoving into his by now loose hole. There came no response as they kept fucking right on Yifan’s bed, and the exhausted man screamed into his own palms in deep and utter frustration.

 

“That’s it,” he concluded when his pleas remained unheard, pulling out his pillow from beneath Yixing who just kept moaning. Hurrying through their flat, kicking open the door to Zitao’s room, he stomped inside and claimed the space as his own.

 

“Get lost, Taozi. This is my room now.”

 

Zitao seemed lost, looking like a confused puppy where he lay on his bed with one earbud now pulled out of his ear.

 

“What–”

 

“I said get out! I’m not sharing with anyone in this godforsaken home anymore!”

 

“But–”

 

“It’s your turn to share with the cumslut, so get the fuck out of here before I tie you up and leave you for those fuckbunnies to play with!”

 

There was no room for arguing when Yifan forced him out of the room, slamming the door shut. Scurrying away like a scared little kitten only to return immediately, Zitao peeked inside with a terrified expression.

 

“Please don’t do this,” he begged as if he was on death row, forever scarred by having witnessed Luhan drink his own cum straight from Yixing’s overflowing hole. “They– they scare me.”

 

Yifan glared, but his friend’s shiny eyes only deepened his frustration. Shooting to his feet when an aroused squeal echoed through the hallway, almost having the walls around them vibrate, he stomped right back with a fiery determination.

 

“That’s it,” he said for what must have been the twentieth time that night, pulling an elated Yixing by the leg until he hit the floor with a loud thump. “Get out of here, both of you!”

 

Cussing mixed with sudden giggling when Luhan spilt a round of profanities, dragging Yixing back to bed in spite of Yifan getting ready for combat. Neighbours were banging furiously on their front door, walls, and ceiling, yet having no effect as absolute anarchy prevailed. Chaos was, in the end, a constant between the walls of these exchange student’s home, and chaos never succumbed to anyone.

 

“Let us finish!” Luhan spat when his roommate kept dragging Yixing by the legs, the latter shrieking in between the laughter. Cum was everywhere, staining the walls and the newly washed sheets, making the room look more like a filthy brothel than an actual bedroom.

 

“ _You came three times already!_ ” Yifan cried out as if it would actually help, tugging at his own hair in frustration and with bloodshot eyes wide open and twitching.

 

“Four, actually–” Yixing protested with a raised finger, ready to explain it all in detail only to get cut off by his own moans when Luhan spanked his ass with force.

 

Yifan sighed, feeling his soul leave his body with that one exhale. He was just about to give up, to set fire to the apartment in order to end this wretchedness once and for all, for he knew deep inside that his friends could not be tamed. Turning on his heel, actually determined to turn on the gas and wait for Yixing to light his post-sex cigarette, he nevertheless found murder-suicide unnecessary.

 

“Calm down, Lulu,” he heard Yixing whisper to Luhan, his voice soon replaced by the sound of sloppy kissing. Licking into his best friend’s mouth, sucking on his tongue while stroking his erection, Yixing giggled like a mischievous child high on sugar. “Let’s go back to mine.”

 

–

 

Sehun had spent twenty minutes crying in the bathroom before returning back to join the others. He didn’t explain, yet no one asked, but he didn’t miss the questioning glances. Baekhyun was the only one who knew that he was gay and that his business with Yixing wasn't innocent at all. Not because Sehun had actually told him, but because, well–

 

Baekhyun knew everything about everyone, after all, and he had actually managed to brighten the mood for at least a few hours after Luhan had left. Sehun was grateful towards him for keeping the others too busy to start thinking, but gratefulness didn't always guarantee happiness.

 

Now dragging his feet through thawing snow, he cursed himself for this chronic self-destructiveness, his self-defeating personality. He knew that he would come crawling back to Yixing in the end, despite Jongin begging him to go back home and in spite of the pain lurking in his own chest. He knew that he would give into these urges, the fucked up satisfaction of spending the night close to Yixing, no matter what the latter might see him as.

 

Who was he trying to fool, anyway? It didn’t matter that he was just a toy because he had already decided that this wouldn’t turn into anything more. Yixing would leave, after all, and Sehun did, furthermore, by now have a feeling that this horny friend of his had fucked his way through half the population, if not more. Not that he had any reason nor right to believe so, but it was in any way what his bitterness gave birth to.

 

Stepping inside without knocking, as usual, he wrinkled his nose when the smell of alcohol and sex came crashing against him like a tsunami. It would have been a lie to say that the scene before him didn’t have him grieve, yet the sight of Yixing taking Luhan into his mouth wasn’t shocking to Sehun who stood blank faced, watching.

 

It didn’t surprise him. Not at all.

 

Perhaps he was drained of tears after those twenty minutes in Baekhyun’s bathroom, at this point not caring anymore. Nonetheless surprised by his own indifference, he raised an eyebrow when Yixing suddenly looked up, facing him with a frozen expression and with Luhan’s cock still hard against his swollen tongue.

 

 _Of course_ , Sehun thought as he spotted the many bottles rolling around the floor, just a tiny bit amused by the realisation of that Luhan was too drunk to even notice the spectator. _Of course, this is where he went._

 

Yixing was kneeling in front of the couch, seemingly sober while releasing his shitfaced friend’s member with a wet pop. Staring at Sehun with eyes wide open, he ignored Luhan’s impatience whining and the hands trying to pull him back by the hair to suck. He looked taken aback by the sudden visitor, almost even scared, but Sehun wasn’t stupid enough to interpret that apologetic gaze as something meaningful.

 

He didn’t why he did it, but that worried look in Yixing’s eyes had Sehun step forward and seat himself next to Luhan. A shocked gasp escaped the latter’s lips when he finally noticed the intruder, maybe realising that it was Sehun, maybe too intoxicated to, but he threw his head back with a bit back moan at the moment Yixing dived back in to mouth at his erection.

 

Sehun almost chuckled, too debauched to question his own motives or even wonder why his friend kept sucking when they clearly weren’t alone. Looking down at the boy whom he had taken so many times, knowing that he should have felt unsettled by the inappropriate eye contact it resulted in, he brought out his hand to let it brush through tendrils of Yixing’s tangled hair. He could feel lumps there, remains of dried cum as his fingers brushed against Luhan’s that were tugging, but he didn’t mind, not in that moment. This was what their friendship had turned into, and he could furthermore not deny that the sound of his nemesis moaning drunkenly, yet ever so softly had his own dick twitch inappropriately.

 

He kept looking straight into Yixing’s droopy eyes as the other took Luhan deep into his throat. Not even gagging, the sucking one moaned, wrapping his own fingers around the base of Luhan’s cock while with his free hand pushing a digit into his friend’s entrance. Sehun inhaled sharply, his own member swelling.

 

Luhan must have been completely wasted, because not once did he open his eyes in spite of his own hand finding Sehun’s by accident. Intertwining their fingers among the strands of Yixing’s cumstained hair, he bucked his lips upwards and groaned as the tip of his cock touched the back of Yixing’s throat. It was all wrong, Sehun thought fleetingly as he palmed himself with his free hand, unable to hold back. It wasn't wrong because of what was happening per se, but because of the fact that the person next to him was someone he should have hated, avoided at all cost. It wasn’t that disgustingly beautiful exchange student that had him so worked up, though, but Yixing.

 

Breaking eye contact only to let his gaze travel to his friend’s red, swollen lips, Sehun grew impatient. He realised that this would not end well, that he would end up fucking the brains out of Yixing to whom he was just a toy. Feeling his face and neck heat up in arousal, sounds all around him getting muffled and distorted as he watched Yixing’s tongue peek out from between his lips wrapped tightly around Luhan’s cock, he simply gave up.

 

Pulling down his zipper was quick work, and soon he found gasps spilling from his own lips as Yixing pulled his finger out of Luhan, instead grabbing Sehun to pump him slowly. His mouth was still working the one before him, moans escaping him only occasionally to mix with the ones of his friends. He kept sucking like the whore of Babylon, and as Luhan came straight into his throat, he squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard.

 

“Good… good boy…” could be heard when he pulled back and panted heavily, gaze now locked at Sehun who could for some absurd reason not help but smile. “Good boy… Xing… baby... “ Luhan kept slurring while releasing Sehun’s hand, his limbs going slack when he finally passed out.

 

Yixing wasn’t done, not even close to. With strings of saliva hanging from his shiny, swollen lips, he crawled on his knees towards Sehun who was close to bursting and peeked up from behind his fringe. Shooting him his typically cute smile, flashing that adorable dimple of his, he grabbed the cock before him and got ready for another round of swallowing. Sehun, however, grabbed his wrist before he had time to even smack his lips.

 

“No,” he let out, barely audible, pulling Yixing up straddle him. The other didn’t protest.

 

One dry finger up his friend’s loose ass was all he needed to figure out that Yixing had been fucking since long before he arrived. Not even registering the sound of the half-dressed Luhan slurring in his sleep next to him, he pulled out, rising to his feet with Yixing’s legs wrapped around his waist.

 

“Why are you like this?” he asked under his breath before dumping the other on the couch. He wasn’t even drunk himself, still he didn’t care what mean, bitter words left his mouth in that fucked up moment. “Why are you so fucking loose, Yixing? I felt it just now, don't tell me it's not true. You're filthy, _Xing-Xing_. You're so fucking filthy.”

 

Yixing didn’t say anything, didn’t even cry or giggle when he got bent over Luhan’s bare lap and grabbed his thighs, his own ass pointing up in such a convenient way. Letting out just quiet puffs of air when Sehun placed himself behind him, guiding his member to sink into his already stretched hole, he shut his eyes and dug his fingernails into Luhan’s soft skin.

 

It was all rough and slow, much like it usually was, with the only differences being the lack of choking hands and the fact that Yixing’s own cock was now pressed against his passed out friend’s numb thighs. Wondering if Yixing’s usual noises were just an act, seeing as he now kept panting without really moaning, Sehun shoved inside even harder and wept.

 

A cacophony of voices was yelling at him from the back of his mind, some of them telling him to not care whilst others were pleading for him to stop. It was all too much, the cascades of unwanted feelings drowning him in that moment, and he couldn’t stop his tears from dripping onto Yixing’s back. Crying softly, yet uncontrollably, he kept thrusting until the sound of his snivels mixed with that of Yixing whining quietly into his own orgasm.

 

The other spilt his seed all over Luhan’s lap, and Sehun followed close behind to shoot inside. Wanting to say so much, yet unable to turn his thoughts into words, the latter pulled out and rose to his feet. He wondered how many people’s cum his own had just mixed with, how many diseases he had caught by taking Yixing so many times without protection. He closed his zipper on the go, determined to just leave or maybe kill himself, but found himself held back by lean fingers wrapped firmly around his wrist.

 

“Sehun,” Yixing barely whispered, gazing at him from where he was now sitting, still naked and leaking cum onto the couch. “Stay.”

 

There was something in his eyes, but Sehun’s vision was too blurred by tears for him to see what it was. He couldn’t even tell himself how to handle this situation, couldn’t even decide whether to cut all ties before Yixing left and heartbreak became a fact. He was exhausted, more mentally than physically, and maybe that was why he found himself giving into longing once again.

 

Following obediently when Yixing dragged him towards the bed, leaving Luhan passed out on the couch, he wiped his tears and fell onto the mattress. Arms found their way around his frame from behind, and as they pulled him closer and tightened, he let everything go and broke into sobs.

 

“I’m sorry,” Yixing whispered against Sehun’s shaking back, his voice stable, yet tinted with sadness and regret. “I’m sorry for being so filthy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you a lot for your comments and kudos! I (literally) giggle with joy everytime I get to read what you think of this story. ♡


	13. Chapter 13

_a few hours later_

 

Sehun must have dozed off completely because the last thing he remembered was Yixing’s arms wrapped tightly around him, not Yixing grovelling around on the floor like a maggot. Narrowing his eyes, trying to fully register the what was happening before him, he sighed deeply at his friend who seemed to have finally decided to catch up with Luhan who was still wasted and asleep on the couch. It wasn’t a pretty sight, the way the latter had his pants pulled down with Yixing’s cum dried on his thighs, but Sehun couldn’t care less. Opting to go back to sleep since Yixing would probably collapse in drunkenness, anyway, he lay back down only to feel a bit bad.

 

Maybe he had hurt himself again, the hopelessly clumsy boy who had a tendency to turn any harmless thing into a weapon, especially when drunk. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Yixing woke up in the middle of the night only to chug bottles of wine, but there was something about his quiet snivels that had Sehun rise from the bed in the end, despite his bitterness over being “just a toy” wanting to see if everything was alright.

 

Yixing wasn’t drunk. Psychedelics would have been a better guess judging from his dilated pupils and horrified expression, but there was no time to ponder over such things when strangled noises started emerging from his mouth.

 

“Help,” he gasped in between the breaths, looking straight at Sehun who wasn’t late to grab onto his waist. Attempting to pull him up was fruitless, though, because Yixing kept crawling like a worm from a bird, trying to get away from whatever images his mind was producing.

 

“Oh God,” Sehun almost whispered in a state of mild shock, not knowing what was happening and even less what to do. He had never seen Yixing like this and the way he kept shaking scared him witless, for although the other didn’t seem sober at all, his breath smelled like eucalyptus and sex without even a hint of alcohol.

 

The sound of sobs bounced between the walls when Yixing scratched the floor as if he could dig into it. Momentarily paralysed, Sehun just sat there staring, with a haunted face watching as the other’s fingernails turned purple and broke. There was chaos in his mind and fear in Yixing’s eyes, before he gathered his wit and shot up from his knees.

 

“Goddamnit!” he all but yelled at Luhan whose inebriation he had apparently underestimated. Shaking the other’s shoulders firmly, desperate for help since Yixing went from sobbing to screaming, he continued to shout without any result. Only groans were offered in response when he eventually slapped Luhan’s face with force, and the other remained passed out with drool running from the corners of his lips.

 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Sehun blurted out loud, turning back to Yixing whose voice had grown weak and whose fingernails were now cracked. There was little fighting when he pulled his friend closer, into his own lap, and Yixing turned silent a bit too suddenly.

 

“The–the walls,“ he breathed as if anything louder than a whisper would kill him, his eyes wide and shimmering with tears. Simple “fear” wasn’t the right word with which to describe his expression, and as his face got drained of colour, he threw his arms around Sehun’s neck. “I don’t want to die–”

 

A cough cut him off but he kept his eyes open, gawking past Sehun who didn’t understand. There was nothing there, no ghosts or intruders, not even a fly or any other animal. Nothing was there, yet Yixing kept shaking like a condemned before the gallows.

 

He wasn’t – unless he had been lying – not a fan of psychedelic substances, and thus could Sehun not figure out the reason. It was true that Yixing was a drunk as much as a nympho, with a peculiar mind and questionable sanity, but never had he during his time as an exchange student consumed anything worse than tequila, or at the very worst, disinfectants. Even painkillers seemed scary he who had once explained that “pills are in reality just spider eggs wrapped in sugar”, but _something_ must have caused this sudden state.

 

Hugging him tighter, Sehun considered calling an ambulance while at the same time doubting that a hospital was what the crying boy needed. He didn’t know how to handle the situation, didn’t even know whether Yixing was actually intoxicated or just experiencing a nervous collapse, but little time did he have to ponder before his body got straddled and pushed to the floor.

 

“Help me,” Yixing pleaded into his ear, his broken nails leaving trails of blood across Sehun’s shirt and biceps. “Choke me before they get to me,” he whispered with his tears still running, having the one beneath him freeze, speechless and aghast.

 

Maybe it was all a trick, another one of his deranged kinks. It wouldn’t have been surprising, yet Sehun refused to consider the option, for the fancy word for getting turned on by fear wasn’t in his vocabulary and neither on his list of things considered healthy.

 

Yixing, however, kept shaking and snivelling, all while rubbing his crotch against Sehun’s. He wasn’t that heavy, yet heavy enough because no matter how much Sehun kept struggling, he couldn’t escape that uncompromising position. He was stuck between the floor and Yixing as much as between horror and concern, and it wasn’t with pride that he felt his pants grow slightly tighter.

 

They had already done it over Luhan’s lifeless body, but fucking a person during a mental breakdown didn’t seem right to Sehun who wanted to protest. Attempting to rise only to get pushed down again, he screamed right out in frustration and complaint before a palm to his mouth shut him up completely.

 

Yixing was crying while sucking on his neck, more like a baby than an aroused adult. Each new breath was accompanied by a sob and although his eyes were squeezed shut in complete and utter terror, nothing stopped him from unzipping Sehun’s jeans. With bleeding fingers, he pulled the fabric down, working Sehun’s stiffening length while ignoring the protests uttered against the palm of his other hand.

 

The small, skinny boy must have unleashed some great, hidden strength because not until he decided that a hand wasn't enough did Sehun manage to pry the palm from his mouth. With lips working their way down his neck, Yixing slid further and further down until stuffing his own mouth with a cock that had gone hard way too fast.

 

“What the fuck,” Sehun let out with a gasp, instinctively grabbing the other’s hair. He was undeniably turned on, shamefully enough, but still freaked out by what was happening in that moment. Yet giving into it as if he didn't have a will of his own, he let his eyes fall shut when warmth enveloped his entire length.

 

He blamed it all on Yixing who wouldn't stop crying, told himself in defence that cock was the only way to shut the other up. His reasoning was absurd, he knew that perfectly well, but the feeling of lips wrapped loosely around him was in that moment, just as in any moment, stronger than his own willpower.

 

Maybe Luhan had fed Yixing with some kind of rare, hallucinogenic drug to which the only antidote was rough, impromptu sex. The idea was ridiculous, he admitted in shame while simultaneously grabbing his friend’s hair harder to thrust upwards until the other regurgitated. Everything was a mess with Sehun groaning by the feeling of too much unidentifiable liquid meeting his exposed skin, and Luhan’s sleepy moans didn't exactly make the scene seem prettier.

 

He was, at least, for once happy that Yixing’s main source of nutrition was water and not food. While half-digested meat and vegetables could have been the thing to put an end to this nonsense, a roman shower would probably have caused himself to cry even louder than Yixing. Letting go of the other’s hair when gurgling noises reached his ears, he raised his head from the floor to peek down only to regret it immediately.

 

Yixing’s fringe was wet with gastric juices that were to Sehun’s relief clear and not yellow, and down his chin ran drool mixed with precum, making his neck shimmer before gathering in the hollows above his clavicles. He hadn’t gotten dressed after lulling Sehun to sleep earlier, and the fear in his droopy eyes was still there, yet now clouded by arousal. Looking up as he released Sehun’s cock from his mouth, he let out strangled noises that were as obscene as they were terrifying when monsters seemed to reappear before his eyes.

 

Luhan had gone from moaning sleepily to snoring when Sehun wondered whether to break this off or not, soon beginning to squirm beneath the weight of Yixing whose sobs had ceased, now replaced with panicky snivels. Desperation was nearly palpable with the way the latter crawled closer to straddle him again, and while Sehun tried his hardest to resist, the sight of Yixing starting to finger himself right then and there had whatever sense he still possessed die before he could flee the scene.

 

He found himself staring at the other, realising that this was a first. Never before had Yixing stretched himself while with him, and never had he looked so dirty where he sat on top of Sehun, his eyes falling shut as he touched his own prostate. He was rocking back and forth ever so slowly, whimpers replacing the previous snivels, and it was despite the absurdity and the smell of bile beautiful to Sehun who began to question his own preferences.

 

Yixing’s fingers were deep inside and his delicate wrist pressed against his erection. It was a nightmare, but a beautiful one, and Sehun could not bring himself to end it.

 

“Choke me, I told you to choke me,” Yixing soon begged as he removed his own fingers and lowered himself on Sehun’s cock, his eyes still shut as if he still didn’t dare open them. His voice was but a whisper, breathed against burning skin. “You have to strangle me.”

 

Sehun searched for a reason to disobey, but his mind had become as corrupted as Yixing was insane. Uttering nothing but moans in response when the flesh around him had his body quake, he grabbed the other’s hips and guided them in circular movements. He felt like crying out of shame and not pleasure, yet doing nothing to stop himself from thrusting.

 

It didn’t take long until the positions were reversed, Yixing ending up squeezed between the floor and Sehun. Hands were already there, as usual, bruising his neck while cutting off his air supply, and while his own nails were broken and bleeding, he used them to dig into Sehun’s nape and face. Legs were thrown over shoulders and aching, arms growing weaker as his sight slowly faded, and when a particularly hard thrust had his lower back crack, the monsters in his mind went back into hiding.

 

Sehun was cursing himself in pace with the movements, too immersed in self-loathing to realise that his hands had remained squeezing for far too long. Shifting a bit without even thinking, he pressed his thumbs against the other’s apple, his whole weight now supported by Yixing’s neck alone. It was relieving in a way, dropping all inhibitions while fucking the sense out someone much weaker, but with pleasure came pain, a kind which would linger for weeks if not more.

 

He came only seconds later, with eyes glazed and dick twitching looking down at the one whose tears had long since stopped. It felt different than before, the way Yixing wasn't struggling or even begging him to keep going, the way his arms dropped limply from Sehun’s nape and face. Something was off but he refused to understand, to accept the reason behind why Yixing wasn’t moving anymore.

 

He leant down for a moment, allowing his lips to ghost freely over the other’s in a feeble attempt to quell his own panic. Breath mixed with his when he gasped in realisation of what he had done, and before he knew it, Yixing’s chest stopped heaving entirely.

 

He pulled out carefully, not wanting to believe it.

 

“Yixing,” he laughed as tears stung his own eyes, beginning to course down his cheeks uncontrollably. “Stop joking around, this isn’t funny.”

 

Nothing happened when he poked the other who lay slack on the floor, fucked and strangled and with cum seeping from his ripped behind. There came no response and so Sehun completely lost it, hitting the chest before him until blood vessels broke and skin was left blue.

 

“Yi–Yixing–” he sobbed hysterically, lips quivering and palm as bruised as Yixing’s lifeless body, “–it’s not funny, stop– stop it–”

 

There would probably have been bloodshed if Luhan hadn’t been too drunk to get woken up by the commotion, but the latter stayed passed out, offering no help at all. Only his snores accompanied the sound of endless slapping and desperate crying, fueling this nightmare which was as bizarre as it was frightening.

 

Not until Yixing twitched did Sehun pause his violent striking, choking on tears that kept running like crazy. There were murmurs and gasps, quiet yet discernible, sounding more like a symphony than anything else. Lowering his fists in a wave of relief when coughs started spilling from the other’s pale lips, Sehun threw himself at him while sobbing loudly, ready to just collapse in post-shock and exhaustion.

 

“Why did you stop…” Yixing slurred as Sehun held him tighter than ever, continuing to cry into the still limp one’s neck. “Keep going…” he begged weakly as if he hadn’t just stopped breathing for minutes, as if death hadn’t been waiting for him just around the corner.

 

Sehun just ignored it, those stupid wishes. Never again would he touch that neck, squeezing it for the sake of some twisted satisfaction. Never again would he give into it so easily, thrusting into Yixing whenever asked to in spite of his own reasoning and sense.

 

He regretted everything that he had told the other earlier when arriving, wanted to flog himself for every bitter word that had left his own lips. Yixing wasn’t filthy, not in any way. It didn’t matter how loose he was or how much cum could fit in that hole which had been used by so many. It didn’t matter that he was insane and libidinous or that wine was his breakfast and vodka his dinner. He wasn’t filthy, not at all, and the truth was, with all pretensions set aside, that Sehun loved him more than anything.

 

Hindsight is the only exact science, however, and there was no way for Sehun to undo what had been done.

 

“No, no,” he repeated distressfully while weeping as Yixing kept begging him for more. “Please, no,” he pleaded as if Yixing had ever followed his words, while with the other’s hand reaching for his face praying for an end to this horrifying nonsense. “Please, don’t ask me to, no, no, no–”

 

“Sehun…”

 

“No, no–”

 

“Kiss me…”

 

The world stopped spinning, but Sehun felt dizzier than ever. Perhaps it was all just a dream, after all, a bad trip turning pleasant through those simple words alone. 

 

“I just want you to kiss me... ” Yixing kept slurring just inches from his lips, but Sehun’s sight began to fade, exhaustion slowly overcoming him in that moment. ”Why have you never kissed me…”

 

He couldn’t remember what happened after that, if their lips actually met or if they both passed out at the very same time. The only thing on his mind save for longing was confusion and fear, for although he wanted to kiss the other, he still didn’t know if it would be worth the eventual pain. Yixing would leave sooner rather than later, and it wasn’t in Sehun’s power to follow him.

 

Waking up hours later by Luhan kicking the shit out of him, he let out a sigh and took it all. He still didn’t know what would happen in the end, if he would ever allow himself to be with someone who would leave him in tears after just a few months. The only thing he knew for sure was that he never again wanted to feel Yixing grow limp beneath his weight. The only thing he could think of while getting beaten was that he would never let his most precious friend die by his hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear who you root for in this story. Sexing? Layhan? Hunhan?


	14. Chapter 14

  
A deal had been made after much angry quarrelling.

 

Yixing had with many profanities refused Sehun’s refusal to under any circumstances ever fuck him again. He knew what he wanted, which was pain and orgasms, and he wasn’t afraid to fight for his right to get strangled and fucked by Sehun who just wanted it to stop.

 

It was their first fight ever.

 

It didn’t help, at all, that Sehun had gone there to discuss things calmly only to for the second time walk in on his friend getting taken over the couch by the middle-aged man whom he had soon enough learned to be Yixing’s landlord. He didn’t want to know for what purposes they did it, the too young exchange student and the too old man, thus did he let his frustration be embodied by outbursts and slut-shaming rather than sensible questions.

 

Yixing was the first one to cry, but it wasn’t because of mean sobriquets that tears kept streaming down his cheeks for minutes. “I won’t fuck you anymore,” were the words that caused him to scream, with limbs shaking breaking things in agitation over having been denied the pleasure of almost dying again.

 

He slammed the door shut and ran down the stairs, leaving Sehun shocked, yet equally angry. Yixing hadn’t even put on any shoes, now ploughing through snow barefoot and freezing, but Sehun didn’t find it in himself to care. The boy was crazy, to say the least, a selfish little slut who happened to be adorable. Sehun didn’t need to know that his medical records were as thick as, if not thicker than the yellow pages, for he had at this point already figured out that Yixing’s insanity wasn’t just a quirk.

 

The fact should have had him feel bad about his thoughts, about insulting the one about whom he cared so much. There is, however, only so much a person can take. Sehun wasn’t perfect, not in any way, and drowning his own shame in hard feelings towards the other was easier than just admitting his own fault.

 

He sat down on the couch, wondering where this would all lead, what would happen tomorrow, next month, next winter. He knew that there wasn’t much time left, that Yixing would leave him in less than three months, and he asked himself angrily why he hadn’t called this whole thing off yet.

 

His phone buzzed where it lay on the floor, its screen cracked after having hit the wall.

 

[18:32 Yixing] _I’m with Luhan. Don’t bother locking the door._

 

It wasn’t until that one message that Sehun, too, broke into sobs.

 

–

 

They didn’t see each other for days after that, and maybe that was just what they needed. It wasn’t the same as before when they finally made up, with them bickering happily or cuddling on the roof beneath layers of blankets, but apologies were still mumbled against skin when they crashed into each other outside the library entrance.

 

Yixing still refused to give up sex and Sehun still refused to hurt him, but both were unwilling to give up each other. They didn’t need to say it out loud because both were aware of how attached they had grown, so negotiations settled into an oral contract signed with a five-minute-long hug to avoid any future fights.

 

Rough sex, but no choking. That became the deal, in the end.

 

–

 

Sehun would probably have been dead by now if Luhan had known the true extent of what happened that night. He realised, of course, that his little Xing had been fucked, but he didn’t know about the unfortunate breakdown or that Sehun’s hands had almost killed the poor boy.  He knew, but he didn’t _know_ , and Sehun wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved by it or not. Death was, after all, preferable to the mismatch of anger, jealousy, shame, and longing coated in a thick layer of fear and self-contempt. Not to mention the constant arousal given birth to by him no longer fucking Yixing every other day or night.

 

His body still hurt even a week after getting beaten up by Luhan, but he more than deserved the pain. Not once had he dared ask Yixing about that breakdown, attack, nervous collapse or whatever it had been, and although he had apologised for almost killing him, he couldn’t bring himself to do much more.

 

Something was wrong, that much was sure if one was to take into account Yixing’s burgeoning alcoholism, his questionable mental age, as well as his phobia of painkillers and things small and round. Yet, Sehun was afraid to ask about it, even less accept the possibility of himself having fallen head over heels for a boy in great need of mental care.

 

Now in the campus cafeteria, forcing down his last bite of undercooked lunch, he lifted his head only to regret it immediately when met by the sight of his friends.

 

Baekhyun had decided to sit by their table, and now he was feeding Chanyeol by hand.

 

“Ew,” Sehun mumbled in disgust, earning himself a slap on the arm given by none other than his roommate who looked offended on behalf of the cuddling others. He rolled his eyes, still wondering since when Chanyeol was into guys, since when Baekhyun wasn’t in a romantic relationship with Luhan, or if the former was just stupid and if the latter’s polyamory was valid even in public.

 

“Don’t think you’re any better, brat,” Jongin muttered as Sehun showed no sign of apologising. Raising his voice just a bit, he narrowed his eyes and leant in closer. “As if people don’t gag at you and your exchange student on a daily basis.”

 

There were several gasps, but Sehun couldn’t hear them over the sound of his suddenly palpitating heart. He didn’t respond, in the end, however, for he was an expert at avoiding things no matter how bad he was at hiding them.

 

In his world, Baekhyun was still the only one aware of that he had never got turned on by a woman in his life. That is, with the exception of Yixing, probably Luhan, and countless forgotten strangers, of course.

 

He mumbled something inaudible, turning his gaze in the only other direction he knew. There they were, his psychotic fuck buddy and his assailant of a nemesis, the former looking uncomfortable, the latter meeting Sehun’s gaze. Raising an eyebrow, biting his lip, fingers ghosting over Yixing’s shoulder.

 

Sehun shuddered.

 

It had started out much different from this, with Luhan glaring at him only days ago in utter contempt, relentless hatred. How it had turned into this was way beyond Sehun but although he didn’t know what it meant, those occasionally suggestive glances sent by Luhan who would stare at him from across the cafeteria, he couldn’t care less. All he cared about when that disgustingly beautiful exchange student ogled his body as if it were a piece of meat, all while pulling Yixing closer to snuggle, was the suffering look on the latter’s face, the way Yixing seemed to be fighting an internal battle that would have historic wars fade in comparison.

 

It felt overwhelmingly good, somehow, watching Yixing suffer silently. Yet, it felt worse than watching a kitten get strangled or skinned alive. There was no in between, only those two extremities thriving simultaneously.

 

Sehun proceeded to eat, ignoring the gazes sent him from all across the cafeteria. He was stuck between people watching him, feeling like a wanted fugitive in a room full of lawmen. It didn’t matter at which volume his inner voice kept screaming or how hard he kept trying to turn back time; there was no escaping this feeling of unease, these destructive thoughts telling him that if he only wasn’t cowardly enough to end his own life, he wouldn’t have had to deal with this dramatic nonsense.

 

He pulled out his notes in a futile attempt to seek refuge in his studies, the scribbled words, however, only reminding him of his struggles.

 

“ ~~ _A first sign of the beginning of understanding is the wish to die_~~. Oh ~~Sisyphus~~  Sehun, the epitome of Absurdity!”

 

Sigh. If he had only brought with him the notepad which Yixing had not filled with sarcastic remarks.

 

Jongin didn’t bother him further, though, and Chanyeol eventually stopped licking Baekhyun’s fingers clean of food. People were gradually leaving the cafeteria, inviting soothing chatter to replace the previous clamour, but Sehun’s brain wouldn’t stop running on overdrive. As long as Luhan’s hands were glued to Yixing and his eyes seeking Sehun’s as if mocking him or teasing, there was no way to dispose of the broiling anger mixing with confusion. Sehun didn’t know whether Luhan had gone through a lobotomy or if the suggestive glances were but a game, and little did it help that the other exchange students were staring, too.

 

Maybe Luhan was trying to scare “Yixing’s little toy” away. Maybe he just wanted a threesome.

 

Sehun shuddered for the second time, feeling an awful lot like a slave on display.

 

Trying not to wonder whether his nemesis preferred dick or ass, he shut his lunchbox, ready to leave. The only comfort in that moment was the slightly annoyed look on Yixing’s face when he suddenly shoved his friend’s hands away, rising from their table before stomping across the room.

 

He rarely approached Sehun in the cafeteria, but when he did, he wasn’t that discreet. Greeting Jongin, Chanyeol, and Baekhyun overly happily before turning to his fuck buddy with a sly little smile disguised as something shy, he placed a hand on Sehun’s neck, his fingers brushing the skin there gently.

 

A deal had been made, true, but that didn’t take away his thirst. He was still his slightly exhibitionistic self, after all, a scheming sex maniac with a sweet tooth for getting mouth-fucked in the vicinity of people that could have them both expelled.

 

“Library?” he asked with a voice so soft, those syllables flowing from his lips like liquid velvet when Sehun didn't turn around to face him.

 

His hands were right there on Sehun’s nape, caressing it teasingly in front of everyone to see. It was getting too obvious, what they were doing, and Sehun did for once wish that Luhan would just come and take his horny little friend away.

 

“I have lectures–”

 

“He’s free,” Jongin interrupted for God knows what reason, sending him an admonishing look. “Free period, remember? Two hours.”

 

Yixing pouted, his eyelashes fluttering. Sehun sighed, knowing that he had no choice.

 

His roommate couldn't possibly have realised that what Yixing wanted wasn't to study or hang out, but refusing to follow would raise more suspicions than if he were to take Yixing’s hand in his with a smile. Jongin was too nice, sometimes, but most of all stupid, with his soft spot for “Xing Xing” having him overlook all signs of the quirky little madman being everything but innocent.

 

Sehun couldn't even trust him, his very best friend, to save him the hell of having to refuse said madman the pleasure of getting strangled in the basement of the library.

 

“Remember our deal,” he all but hissed while he grabbed his bag and allowed Yixing’s fingers to tangle with his own. There was a spark, a tiny one of joy given birth to by the other dropping that childish pout, but he did his best to prevent it from flaming up.

 

Jongin seemed worried about his roommate’s grouchy behaviour, as did Baekhyun who despite knowing a lot hadn't heard the full story. Sehun, however, just ignored them all along with the delighted giggle breathed next to him, hoping that the matter would be forgotten once the term had ended and crazy exchange students were miles away.

 

For all his friends knew, he and Yixing could have fought over something entirely else than life-threatening intercourse.

 

 

_soon enough_

 

“Just once?” Yixing’s voice echoed through the library, his cheeks puffed up as if that would have his wish come true. “Just a quick one?”

 

Sehun shook his head and shoved an eager hand away from his own thigh for the third time in less than a minute

 

“No.”

 

“I can just suck you, if you want–”

 

“I said no.”

 

Yixing pouted, crossing his arms where he sat slumped and restless against the backrest of his chair. He had, of course, suggested the usual, but Sehun wasn't up for it. While places had not been part of their negotiations, he had on his own decided that if they were to fuck again, it would have to be at home.

 

“Why not?” Yixing whined petulantly, attracting the gazes of hard working students. He was either too dumb to understand that they could hear him, or desperate enough to pay them no heed. “I thought you liked that.”

 

Not that he ever cared about people finding out, but that wasn’t the point.

 

Sehun shut his book with a slam, fed up with repeatedly having to explain just why he didn't feel like shoving his dick up someone who had barely a week ago been close to dying because of such things. He was tired and annoyed, next to pissed, but he refused to give into pleasure once again.

 

Ready to face the consequences of what he was about to say, he leant in closer and lowered his voice. Perhaps a change of method would work.

 

“No, Yixing, I don't want to do that anymore,” he whispered, letting his hand travel up Yixing’s thigh to stroke and massage the area that had so many times been left untouched. People were watching, already gossiping, but he chose not to care in that moment of unconcern. “Why don’t you fuck me, if you're so goddamn horny? Take me as hard as you want, choke me until I pass out.”

 

He tugged at the zipper and shut his eyes, just a bit amused by the quiet gasps offered in response.

 

“Sehun, no–”

 

“Pound into me until I cry for it to stop, until everyone in this godforsaken library can hear my screams. Thrust into me, Yixing, break me. Make sure everyone knows exactly who is taking me, whose name I’m moaning even after I split my tongue when the pain gets too much and I can’t take it anymore. Bend my arms and press me against the desk, use your pretty hands to mark my neck. Do it now, Yixing, right here.” He paused for air, sincerely enjoying this new type of dominance. “I want you to hurt me, Xing, just like I hurt you.”

 

There was silence save for other students whispering, but he wasted no energy on worrying about who might have heard. Moving his hand up further to check if his impromptu speech had left any impact, he opened his eyes, smiling without feeling.

 

Yixing wasn’t breathing, not even moving slightly, his heart beating heavily and faster than ever. There was, however, no growing bulge in his pants, nothing but shock and disgust on his suddenly blanching face.

 

Sehun snickered, bitter in a way.

 

“Didn’t think so.”

 

Yixing didn’t ask him again.

 

 

 

At least not in public.

 

 

 

Only a few days had passed since then when he managed to get Sehun tipsy enough to accept a blowjob, right on the couch which was stained beyond saving. Already undressed and flushed by wine that had been gifted to him by his “generous landlord”, he made sure to suck as if the cock before him was the last thing he would taste before the gallows.

 

“I won’t ask you to choke me, I promise,” was what he murmured after gagging, strings of saliva dripping from his lips onto Sehun. Climbing on top faster than it took the latter to protest or even consider doing so, he lowered himself steadily while crying out in long-craved pain.

 

He is a cunning bitch, and Sehun is weak.

 

It was different this time, in more ways than one. The lack of choking hands had Sehun unwind, feeling completely at ease by the feeling of Yixing’s fingernails grazing his chest as he thrust upwards to complement the motions, the rhythmic swaying of Yixing’s hips as they crashed together in seeming perpetuity.

 

It wasn’t that bad, he told himself when he sat up straight and wrapped his arms around the other, the unfamiliar position allowing their bodies closer to each other than ever before. It shouldn’t have been bad, he repeated in his mind as small hands tugged at his hair a bit shyly, soft kisses on his shoulder fooling his brain into believing that things would end up well, in the end.

 

Fuck all those feelings that would eventually get hurt when Yixing boarded the plane with Luhan back home. Fuck his heart that would break every time he let the one on top of him slither a bit closer. Fuck everything – the pain left for his future self to cry over, the inevitable regrets caused by these touches, the agonising knowledge of that Yixing wasn’t his alone.

 

Sehun was far from the only one granted entrance into this undeniably sick, yet wondrous being, but dangerous pipe dreams were what he in this amazing moment allowed himself to indulge in.

 

He let go entirely, disregarding the future while starting to suck bruises on clavicles before biting into bone, moving further up to ghost over lips. Yixing kept clinging closely to him, letting out occasional cries of pain as he rocked back and forth, his own erection squeezed tightly between the two convulsing bodies connecting. The noises breathed against Sehun’s mouth did, however, not sound quite like they used to before.

 

It was quiet in comparison, yet every ragged gasp spoke louder than a hundred shallow pleas screamed into a pillow stained with the cum of countless others. Incoherent whispers that were either foreign or not mixed with gasps as their foreheads pressed together, fingers either splayed across skin or clutching whatever limbs they found.

 

It was a dream come true, if Sehun was to think in clichés, but only God knows if it would have stayed that way if the most intimate moment they had shared so far had not been interrupted by a force more relentless than any deity. They would never find out what would have happened next if not a certain other exchange student had lurked around the corner, deciding to step forward just as lips were about to crash together in mutual appetite.

 

Luhan’s eyes when they locked with Sehun’s told a two-word story, one as simple and cruel as,

 

“Payback, bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yixing never locks his apartment and luhan has a key, anyway) comments are still very appreciated, ily all <3


	15. Chapter 15

Luhan might have been Yixing’s best friend since childhood, sure, and Sehun _did_ fuck Yixing over his naked lap on that night, sure. Did that give him the right to in this moment walk straight up to them so calmly while they were at it and seat himself right where he had sat back then, hands now draping over Yixing’s shoulders?

 

Sehun wasn’t sure. The only thing clear enough for him to apprehend was that what _Lulu_ wanted, _Lulu_ took.

 

He stopped immediately, of course, Sehun who didn’t know what else to do, but Yixing kept bouncing as if Luhan’s presence wasn’t yet known to him. It was as if the scoffs leaving his best friend’s lips when Sehun sent him a terrified look flew right past his ears from behind, as if the extra hands on his body weren’t Luhan’s, but two Sehun had grown on a sudden. He refused to quit when Sehun tried to push him off, leant against the chest before him with tiny palms yet strong enough to keep his fuck buddy in place beneath him.

 

He kept moving with decrease in neither speed nor fervour, his eyes still open, yet glazed and unfocused.

 

Sehun spat curses, still glaring at Luhan.

 

The latter looked amused to say the least while sneaking up closer behind Yixing, hands travelling from shoulders to hips in order to guide them slowly around in circles. A peck was left on the moaning one’s neck before he smiled out of spite and despicable pride, that simple gesture alone filling Sehun with misery and hatred enough for him to thrust his hips upwards in pure and utter anger.

 

“You are,” he gasped as the flesh around him clenched so nicely, spurring him to resume his previous pace, “a vermin.”

 

Luhan just snickered at that heartfelt insult, all whilst manoeuvering Yixing to pick up speed. With lips ghosting over glistening clavicles when he reached his head over Yixing’s shoulder, he smiled most sweetly and let out a mellow hum not at all matching the evil in his veins

 

He was a devil disguised, that being the only conclusion Sehun could draw from his face which was nonetheless beautiful despite the ugliness of his character.

 

“You okay, baby?” was what he asked his friend then, once again locking eyes with Sehun whose insides were boiling but whose cock was still relishing in warmth. The latter couldn’t find any words that spoke louder than his own fingers snatching Yixing’s away to squeeze and interlock as a reminder of who was, in fact, in that very moment fucking the one they both wanted too much.

 

He was, however, but a puppet, in the end. A puppet with a will, but a puppet nonetheless.

 

When Yixing just kept panting irregularly, letting out shaky moans in pace with the thrusts, Luhan mouthed upwards along his neck. With fingernails sinking into sharp hipbones, forcing the movements to cease along with the gasps, he breathed his next words into his best friend’s ear as if there was no one else around to hear him. There was, though, obviously, and that was precisely the point.

 

“Do you want more?” he asked, smirking at Sehun.

 

Yixing only nodded, wanting just that.

 

“Okay, _baby_.”

 

That was it, thought Sehun who lay flustered and furious, wanting to gag because of that ridiculous nickname, yet scoffing at himself for having been such a fool. That one little nod was all that was needed for him to know that there was, in the end, nothing in it for him save for sex. It had him realise the extent of his own naiveté, how stupid he had been hoping for more, for believing for even one fleeting moment that this particular time would end differently than before.

 

He gave up entirely, body and feelings alike.

 

“I want you, too, Lulu, like with Baek...” was that with which Yixing used to break the sudden silence, not even glancing at Sehun who was still inside, beginning to tear up. “Like we do with Baek… and the others… Like with Cha–”

 

Sehun sat up in an instant then, pushing the boy on his lap to the floor – he would let Yixing ruin himself, then, if that was what the latter truly wanted. Let him continue on his road towards whatever this devilry would lead him in the end. Let him end up ripped up and crying after his every relationship have been broken beyond fixing. Let him destroy not only his own body, but Sehun’s and Luhan’s hearts as well.

 

Let him.

 

He didn’t seem to have any problem using not only one hole, but two, to satisfy his friends who silently agreed to for once cooperate. Flipping him around to have him on all four was quick work, especially with four hands, but even faster was it for him to press his bruised hips backwards towards Sehun’s while simultaneously taking Luhan’s cock into his mouth. Strangled noises mixed with moans when both of his friends took him right there, one from behind, one from the front.

 

“I guess I know what he sees in you, after all,” Luhan panted when warm, swollen lips wrapped around his length, him pushing forward to fill every space of Yixing’s gurgling throat. Grabbing his “little Xing’s” tangled hair before addressing Sehun again, soon breathless, he began to fuck steadily into their mutual friend’s cavern.

 

“You're good-looking, I’ll give you that; tall, solid, statuesque. Even intelligent, I guess, in a way, with all those books and quotes and those academic points of yours that our Xing keeps bragging about whenever he can’t shut up about you being so _smart_ and _handsome_. You’re _existential suffering_ or whatever I should call it really seems to get him on his knees, for some reason. Just like now, look–” His knuckles turned white around a handful of hair and he let out a groan, teeth scraping against the base of his cock when he forced himself further into Yixing. In his gaze was only contempt, yet he kept up that most sugary smile. “But you’re trash, Sehun, so easily manipulated. You do everything he asks you too, even if it hurts you. Don’t you?”

 

Sehun didn't respond to that, but poured all of his anger into thrusting into Yixing whose whimpers were faint and whose lower back arched and cracked because of the two forces pushing into him in chorus.

 

Luhan wasn’t wrong, there was no doubt about that, but he had in Sehun’s mind no right whatsoever to say it out loud or even whisper about it. Sehun’s self-awareness and growing self-loathing was already more than enough, so little did he need some cunning exchange student to usher him yet another step closer towards the edge of the cliff that was his own pointless life.

 

“You’re pathetic, Oh Sehun,” Luhan continued with a sneer, “–nothing but pathetic. And the truth is – you know this very well – that you’re using him as much as he uses you.”

 

Sehun wanted to deny it.

 

Yixing, however, kept letting out muffled moans that were either of pleasure or of pain and protest, his rhythmic clenching having Sehun at loss for words. He felt so good, now just as always, and so Sehun kept quiet, taken by surprise when hands wrapped around his own neck and pulled.

 

Luhan’s actions were, if possible, even more ambiguous than Yixing’s.

 

Despite those words, those shameless insults, he finally made use of those suggestive glances he had sent before across the campus cafeteria. With a gaze fiery, yet nonetheless pissed, he let his own tongue lick straight into Sehun’s mouth at the moment he forced their lips to collide.

 

Sehun’s eyes fell shut in an instant, his hands squeezing bruises into hip bones that were blackening his own by crashing against them.

 

It was a paradoxical anticlimax, a nonetheless satisfactory ending to what he and Yixing had worked towards earlier after months of being too afraid to kiss. It wasn't at all what any of them they wanted, with two craving Yixing and Yixing needing care, yet Sehun kissed back with ardour and with anger, biting into Luhan’s lips that tasted too much like sugar and Baekhyun’s pink patches.

 

Three became one then, connected on the couch on which they had all before either fucked or been fucked. The boy on his four ended up, however, as nothing but a bridge between those who were too consumed by selfish desire to realise that this contest would solve nothing in the end.

 

Luhan and Sehun kept going for a while, the enmity between them set aside for a minute while they sucked the hatred out of each other only to breathe it back in with every new gasp. With teeth crashing hard and hips snapping forward as if meeting in the middle of that human bridge, they kept their mouths working, exchanging saliva instead of words.

 

Sehun didn’t notice how Yixing started struggling when the sound of smacking drowned out that of moans. He didn’t catch the muffled protests whimpered by he who remained stuck in between, the way Yixing felt no longer pleasured but forgotten.  Sehun just kept biting holes into Luhan’s lips and swirling tongue in order to inflict as much pain as was physically possible, the memory of the soft touches shared earlier between himself and Yixing already fading like his own sense of self-control.

 

The blood tasted nice when drunk from lips that had minutes ago smirked at him in spite, but he didn’t grieve the loss of it when Luhan pulled back for much-needed air. It felt nearly riveting, though, the sweetness of that bodily fluid matching the sight of that equally sweet face, so determined to keep the pain continuous, Sehun leant forward once again to separate those lips from the face they were attached to.

 

The images in his mind didn't match those of reality when Yixing’s face appeared before him, just like the time at that disastrous party. Sehun could no longer tell himself that there hid no sadist deep within him, that he didn't find the thought of hurting as absurdly satisfying as the longest of orgasms. Biting while fucking, fingernails digging deeper into skin that ruptured much easier than it had ever before, he ignored that the muffled whimpers coming from beneath resembled a word that had never before been pronounced by Yixing who now kept squirming instead of pushing backwards.

 

‘Stop’ was no longer in Sehun’s vocabulary.

 

He did, in the end, not manage to sever Luhan’s lips or even his tongue, not when Luhan kept biting as hard. No critical damage had been done when the latter pulled away, still gripping Sehun’s neck, and although blood streamed down their chins in rivulets, no chunks of flesh were there for them to feast on in victory or spit out in disgust.

 

Luhan's eyes were half-lidded and wet when he looked straight into Sehun’s while proceeding to clutch Yixing’s hair, the fire in his gaze, however, stronger than ever.

 

“Friends share, Xing,” he mumbled quietly as if his best friend’s mouth was not brimming with cock. With hips jerking forward without any rhythm, he bumped his nose against Sehun’s and smiled. “Don’t we?”

 

 

 

 

Yixing was quick to scurry away after both his friends had collapsed on the couch, his hole leaking and with semen in his lungs. Trails of cum followed him to the bathroom where he locked the door and sat down in the shower, the soft click of the lock hushed out by Luhan who found no reason to stop playing.

 

“Don’t you ever get tired of it?” His voice sounded breathless and he turned to Sehun, their animosity muffled by post-orgasmic exhaustion. “Of fucking him?”

 

The sound water running kept emerging from afar in cascading echo while Sehun wiped the blood off his chin. It wasn’t in his power to even answer that question, not when Luhan crept closer without waiting.

 

“Don’t you ever miss being in his position?”

 

Fingers splayed across his chest on a sudden, and before he could even fathom what was happening, he found himself pinned by the wrists against the couch. It would have been exaggerated to claim that he was forced, but the kisses still stung and his skin still burned wherever his nemesis kept grinding against him.

 

“Don’t struggle, goddamnit,” Luhan hissed as if frustrated or desperate while sucking bruises up his neck, across his jawbone. It didn’t take long for one of his hands to travel from wrist down to push between buttcheeks, two fingers pressing into Sehun who was writhing because of upheaval and sudden pain. “Don’t pretend that you’re more to him than I am. Don’t pretend you’d feel bad for giving into me when he keeps begging me to fuck him every week. You’re not special, you idiot, and you’ll never be – but oh, you already know that.”

 

The words fulfilled their purpose exactly.

 

Yixing _did_ give his body to others. No one had never been special to him.

 

Something broke inside of Sehun then and he gave up for what felt like the thousand time since this all had started. Suddenly eager and craving something more, he bucked his hips upwards and kissed the one on top of him with an unforeseen thirst he would surely regret as morning arrived.

 

Luhan wasn’t wrong about him having missed it, he realised, the feeling of not fucking, but getting fucked instead.

 

“Just take me, goddamnit,” he spat between the kisses, and Luhan obliged, smirking against a mouth that was frothing at the corners.

 

“I knew it.”

 

It hurt so much, and Sehun wondered as he bit back a cry what twisted disorder could have anyone lust after pain, humiliation, or near-death experiences. It hurt like hell, the cock up his ass despite him having had one so many times before, and while did for a moment or two try to break free in a sudden realisation that sleeping with Luhan would solve none of their problems, the latter kept him pinned and thrust into deeply.

 

What Lulu wanted, Lulu took, so Sehun just gave into it fully like the pathetic, submissive creature he had turned out to be.

 

They weren’t obnoxiously loud but neither were they quiet, their moans and grunts still drowning out snivels coming from the bathroom from which water was seeping through the gap beneath the door. Sehun didn’t care that their voices could be heard, that not only Yixing but the neighbours as well could probably pinpoint their every thrust. He didn’t care to muffle his own moans even when his body got flipped around too fiercely, for in his mind was only the sensation of Luhan’s cock pushing in without lube and his own erection chafing against blankets that were already wet with precum and with tears that weren’t his own, but Yixing’s from earlier.

 

He wondered in the back of his head why Yixing had not yet come out from the bathroom, what took him so long to finish in the shower. He feared for a moment that they had gone too far, that Yixing had for once not appreciated the pain, but all questions were consigned to oblivion when gushes of warmth filled him up from the inside.

 

It had been such a long time since his own ass had been touched, thrust into like some disposable toy and smacked with palms that were calloused, yet soft. He realised then how much it had been needed, for himself to get fucked with neither shame nor kindness, and while he still hated Luhan more than anyone could, he did for one shameful moment fall in love with his body.

 

“Touch me,” he breathed as his face sunk deeper into the crevice between the cushions, his own cock swollen and screaming for release. “Please,” he gasped, all pride set aside, wanting this night to just be over and done with.

 

Luhan actually did him that favour, either forgetting that he was, in fact, Sehun, or simply too tired to do else but comply.

 

 

 

 

Twenty minutes or more had passed and Yixing had still not left the bathroom. Wrapped in a blanket and sore all over, Sehun kept glancing at the door with worry whilst Luhan, half naked, brought out his laptop.

 

“It’s his favourite,” the latter mumbled coldly as he turned on some film depicting bunnies, rainbows and a whole lot of singing, its ridiculous plot aimed at an audience that couldn’t possibly be including adults. Shrill voices emerged from the speaker when the intro passed and the plot began, but the water kept running and Yixing remained silent.

 

Luhan showed no sign of leaving, yet with the distance between him and Sehun stating very clearly that just because they had fucked and kissed, they _weren’t_ friends or even friendly with each other. Sehun, of course, didn’t complain, even less mind the lack of words; awkwardness was, in the end, preferable to fighting no matter how good it had felt before to cause bleeding.

 

The film kept playing, but none of them were watching.

 

“What the hell is he doing in there?” mumbled Luhan after yet another twenty minutes had passed and their mutual friend was nowhere to be seen. The shower could no longer be heard at all and so he stood up, stomping towards the bathroom only to find the door swing open right before his nose.

 

Yixing’s hair was dripping wet, his body, however, fully clothed.

 

“What took you so long, Xing? You missed round two–”

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

Sehun might not have known Yixing forever, but he knew in an instant by the look on his face that something was off, even more than so. There wasn’t that typical pitiful pout, but something else, a pair of swollen eyes speckled with red and a sombre expression telling a story of betrayal.

 

He stared past Luhan, right at Sehun whose heart started racing in immediate remorse. The latter wasn’t sure just what he regretted, if it was pounding into Yixing or locking lips with his friend, but he knew for a fact that it would cause a downhill growing steeper and steeper the further down they reached.

 

He was just about to ask again when a smile most sad had him hold his tongue, Yixing breaking eye contact while letting out a feigned little laugh.

 

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just tired. Almost fell asleep in the shower, haha.”

 

That was all.

 

Whisking Luhan’s hands away that were trying to guide him back to the couch, he snatched a blanket to spread out on the floor. He didn’t explain, didn’t speak at all, didn’t cry nor even pout the slightest. He just sat there staring at the screen from a distance, his eyes still swollen but lips sealed shut. Animated unicorns and anthropomorphic bunnies that had used to have him giggle like a child had no effect on him where he sat cross-legged and silent.

 

If Luhan had not gone there today, Yixing would have been leaning against Sehun while pretending to sleep in order to sneak closer. If this had been a night like any other, a hand would have brushed through his tendrils of hair that were full of snowflakes and cigarette ashes, him and Sehun sharing warmth beneath blankets under stars that kept battling the streetlights below.

 

Their timeline was definite, though, set in stone, carved by themselves.

 

They had already had their first ever fight, but Sehun knew now that they had reached a new low. It was as if their lips ghosting over each other’s earlier had been but Sisyphus rolling the boulder up his hill only to watch it descend down the slope again in tortuous perpetuity. Sehun didn’t want to pity Yixing to whom he was, as reported by Luhan, just a toy for him to shove up his ass, yet his stomach kept twisting and turning, his heart doing somersaults, pounding against his ribs.

 

Luhan's eyes fell shut long before the others’, his head leaning heavily against the backrest of the couch. His quiet snores were all that made up for the lack of music when the credits stopped rolling, the room turning dark as the screen went black. Sehun couldn’t even draft an apology since he didn’t know what exactly had gone wrong, so instead, he just stood up in the end, reaching out a tentative hand.

 

“Tired?” he asked while attempting a smile, receiving an equally miserable one in response.

 

Yixing’s voice cracked only slightly.

 

“Can you just hold me?”

 

 

 

Yixing woke up screaming that night, pointing at monsters that weren’t really there. Much too inured to even wake up fully, Luhan fucked him gently in comfort, kissing away tears next to Sehun who was crying.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something changes.

“Why?” was the only word mumbled after twenty minutes if not more had passed with no sound but that of Yifan preparing lunch. There was no response save for Luhan shuffling as if to avoid the question which he had suspected would come.

 

Yixing had been dragged to his best friend’s collective to “mend some wounds” after last night’s attack. He would, however, just as expected, have none of anyone’s attempted babying; food had been offered by Yifan who always pitied him, and hugs by Zitao who was just a hugger by nature, but all had been refused by Yixing who just wanted to go home and spend the weekend alone. He was done for the moment, done with everything, wanting nothing more than to hide from humanity and suppress the memory of his best friends kissing.

 

Now curling into a ball where he sat cold and alone in the armchair beside the couch, he elaborated his question although there had been no need to do so even to begin with.

 

“Why did you do that?” he began with a snivel, bottling up tears that were as close to falling as he was to start banging his head against the wall until his skull cracked open and left him benumbed forever. “Why did you have sex with him?”

 

Luhan just sighed and remained in his seat. He seemed in Yixing’s eyes as unsympathetic as usual when it came to this particular matter, but truth was that he cared, even more than he wanted to.

 

Turning a bit restlessly on the couch, he grieved the loss of a friend who would cling with arms and legs resembling squishy tentacles rather than human limbs. The distance between him and Yixing was even greater than it had been during these past few weeks of deteriorating friendship, but he wouldn’t risk triggering an episode just for the slight chance of being granted an embrace.

 

“You know why,” he muttered eventually as an answer to the question, convinced that he was right – he _knew_ that Yixing knew, that he wasn’t stupid, that his borderline disorder and schizotypal tendencies still didn’t rob him of his ability to think ahead. Yixing was a student of philosophy and language, after all – that alone was proof of his intellect. He was smarter than most when it came to certain matters, yet he sank deeper into the armchair now at the sound of Luhan’s so-called answer, his eyes half-lidded and glimmering with tears.

 

“No, I don't know. I really don't understand why you would do that to us.”

 

Luhan scoffed.

 

_Us._

 

Sehun had left as soon as they woke up, with a dead expression pulling himself out from between the too many limbs that had been entwining with his own during the few hours of sleep following Yixing’s attack. Now, long after he had slammed the front door shut without uttering a word, Luhan shuddered at the memory of that disgustingly good-looking guy rising from the bed with remains of cum dried between his legs and with trails of salt painting his cheeks as white.

 

Sehun was probably not that bad of a person, but he was still pathetic, unworthy of Yixing. It didn’t matter that his ass had felt good even the second time they fucked that night or that he apparently worked perfectly in a threesome; he had proven himself to not love Yixing enough to deny Luhan access to his own body, despite his initial struggles giving into not only one other temptation, but two. He had kissed Luhan back with burning fervour as if Yixing hadn’t been in the bathroom, listening, had kissed him again after Yixing fell asleep. It was true that Luhan had initiated both sessions and that Sehun had cried uglily each time, but it hadn't been with overly forced touches that Yixing’s best friend had beleaguered that body. There had been reluctance, sure, yet a great deal of desire, and thus had Sehun revealed his uncensored self which was lacking control and any kind of self-respect.

 

Luhan would, of course, not usually have minded having someone like Sehun to sleep with regularly. His secret attraction towards the guy was, however, not the reason why he had claimed those lips and that sculpted ass; he had promised himself to save Yixing from the heartbreak that would surely come with leaving the country, even if that meant being the first one to hurt him. He would never give up on trying to change the world into a place where Yixing needed him, and only him, where Sehun was as useless as Yixing’s own dick.

 

Now sighing yet again as the issue began to fester in his mind and bloom into a clusterfuck of contradictory feelings, he gazed at Yixing who wouldn’t admit that a relationship with Sehun could never happen.

 

“What I did was problematic, I know,” he said, “but I just want you to realise that he’s as much of a fuckboy as every other guy you've ever slept with. He only wants your ass, Xing, but he does, furthermore, still _need_ more than that and you, of all people, can’t even give him–”

 

“That's not true. Sehun isn’t like that.”

 

He paused, cocking his brow. It was as expected – Yixing never dropping his armour of obstinacy, never breaking up with the hopeless romantic hiding beneath those layers of self-chosen torment that had multiplied throughout the years due to his inherent masochism. Brutal honesty was clearly needed, thus was that what Luhan would cater.

 

“Maybe he is, maybe he’s not. Does it even matter?” He tried to remain stoic and opted for a finis to this tedious story, for at least a moment turning a blind eye to the jealousy given birth to by his friend having fallen for that brat. “You're leaving him, anyway,” he continued dispassionately, praying that his admonition would be fruitful, at last.

 

It was, of course, of no use.

 

Yixing snivelled, as injudicious as ever, his voice coming out as barely a whisper when he hugged his legs tighter and stared out the window.

 

“I could come back.”

 

Luhan realised fully then that this was something greater, not just some shallow infatuation which reached only as deep as the biggest cock his friend had been fed with. He was fully aware of that Yixing fell in love as easily as a kitten would purr when petted, but never before had he seen him act a slave under feelings that were better left suppressed than fueled.

 

“We both know you can't come back,” were the last words he had time let out before Yixing leapt from the armchair and shouted.

 

“You can't decide that for me, Lu!” He looked furious, to say the least, with fingernails digging into his own bursting palms, his eyes wide open and pupils dilated as tears began to course down his cheeks. “You don't have the right!”

 

“I'm just being reasonable!” retorted Luhan, finally fed up with trying for such a long time to support his friend only to watch him keep succumbing to his own stupidity. Snapping subsequently when Yixing kicked the wall in response, he discarded that alleged reason, the calculated words aimed to bring sense into his friend. “Plus, I think it's _funny_ how you're allowed to sleep with my boyfriend while I can't fuck yours–”

 

“No, shut up, that’s not–”

 

Lips began to tremble, but Luhan kept spitting out the truth.

 

“–and that you sleep around on a daily basis, then lose your shit when that brat decides that your ass isn't enough–”

 

“I’m warning you, Luhan–”

 

“–but you're just sooo full of your own suffering, aren't you, that you can't even recognise when your _best friend_ is trying to help you with your issues–”

 

Yixing snapped entirely then, and the sound of some vase getting shattered against the floor still didn't sting as much as his words.

 

“You don't even care about me at all, _Lu Han_ , so shut the fuck up and leave me alone! You're just like everyone else! You don’t know anything!”

 

Everything went quiet. Echoes faded.

 

Even Yifan paused his cooking in the kitchen from which he was now observing this ominous altercation. Threatening glares and teary glances were respectively exchanged between the boys whose current fight could be fatal to their friendship, but none dared move nor break even the silence. It was a stalemate situation they had been in for long which had not until now been seen as a threat, and even the smallest of innocent words could now have the impact of a ravaging tornado.

 

There was no way to break the deadlock, to get past that impasse, and so Luhan, as stubborn as he was, simply decided to keep fighting till the end.

 

“You know I love you,” he whispered as if begging, praying for a miracle in the form of “I love you back”. He ignored the fact that it had always been useless, kept staring at his friend while waiting for those words. He kept repeating pleas in his head as if his atheistic ass had suddenly turned religious, but Yixing only shook his head and proved that God was just as real as his own reciprocated feelings for Luhan.

 

“I'm going to leave now,” he mumbled as he began to walk away.

 

Luhan swallowed, his insides corroding.

 

“You'll come back, Xing. You're my best friend, you know you can't leave me–”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

He barely had time to react to the object getting thrown in his direction until it hit his face. White covered his field of vision as the metal shoehorn caused the world to quake, the unpleasant ‘thung’ still reverberating through his head as he caressed his temple and whimpered in pain. In a state of shock and unable to speak, he could barely make the sound of Yixing dressing from behind the wall of headache and nausea; everything around him was rumbling and screeching, his head pounding in chorus with his heart. Yet, the sentence hissed by his friend banged louder on his eardrums than the aftermath of his concussion.

 

”Don't talk to me again,” were the words that broke him, having the wound on his temple seem much less severe. Falling to his side as the door slammed shut, he let minutes pass by without a single spilt tear.

 

“He’ll come back, you'll see,” sighed Yifan eventually as he brought out his first-aid kit and plodded over calmly. He was much too inured to romantic drama to even bat an eye anymore, and so did he just start dabbing Luhan’s temple with antiseptic gauzes without asking for any details. “It’ll be fine. You'll talk about it.”

 

He looked so sure of it in spite of the sighs, with the way he clicked his mouth motherly instead of rolling his eyes like the annoyed flatmate that he in all reality was. With a smile looking forced, yet nonetheless real, he tended to Luhan with a certainty so disgusting that it had the latter doubt all the nonsense just uttered.

 

“Hospital?” he asked as he put on the last band-aid, already knowing that the reply would be negative. Then, with a nod patting Luhan’s shoulder gently when only a groan was offered in response, he swore to himself that once all this was over, he’d dump all his miserable friends to live secluded on some faraway mountain top. Yixing would come tiptoeing back and throw his arms around his best friend, sure, but more things would happen, even worse than before, making sure that their fucked up cycle would remain unbroken. Yifan knew this, for he had seen it before.

 

“Shout if you need anything,” he mumbled before leaving, and with that alone said, Luhan broke into sobs.

 

 _Band-aids don’t fix bullet holes_ , the latter thought while shaking, his body quivering with both sadness and anger. While Yixing could be violent at times when drunk or high on some cocktail of stimulants, he had never caused his best friend any physical harm. Luhan had always been the only exception, even during nighttime terrors, which was why this wound stung more than any laceration.

 

Yixing had never been like this. Not before he met Sehun.

 

Blood started streaming from Luhan’s nostrils when he choked on tears and started coughing uncontrollably, and the only thing he could do before fainting was to make a mental to reminder to break up with Baekhyun as a first step to ruin whatever Yixing thought he had with Sehun. He wouldn’t let Yixing return once they’d left, not only in order to save him from himself and the eventual realisation that Sehun had moved on. No, Luhan _needed_ Yixing to stay with him, because how could he live without his very best friend?

 

–

 

“ _The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment._ ”

 

Sehun hung up and screamed into the pillow only to sit back up and press call again,

 

“ _The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment._ ”

 

and again,

 

“ _The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment._ ”

 

and again.

 

“ _The number you have dialled cannot be re–_ ”

 

Jongin snatched the phone from his hand.

 

“Look at yourself,” he chided with a part worried, part annoyed scowl while gesturing vaguely at the state of his roommate; his unkempt hair, his unwashed clothes, the rumbling of his stomach, among many other things. Even piles of neglected studying had begun to gather dust and coffee stains on the bed stand, but Sehun found no reason to care about matters as unimportant as his mental and physical condition. Ignoring Jongin’s continued scolding, he retrieved his phone and pressed the number yet again, endlessly repeating that pointless action as the true epitome of absurdity that he was.

 

Yixing had been gone for days, had refused to pick up any calls and had not texted back despite the massive quantity of messages sent. It felt as though he had disappeared completely or alternatively as though Sehun had woken up from some lengthy nightmare, and it stressed the latter out, to say the least. Yet persisting in his useless attempts to gain any response – even a click, at least – he rose from the bed and limped barefoot through the flat. His ass still hurt after that horrible night.

 

“ _The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment._ ”

 

_You’re pathetic, Oh Sehun, so easily manipulated._

 

He opened the window as the message kept playing.

 

“ _The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment._ ”

 

_You do everything he asks you to, even if it hurts you._

 

Nasty images recollected in his mind. The taste of an exchange student’s lips coated his.

 

“ _The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment._ ”

 

_Don’t you ever get tired of fucking him?_

 

He lit a cigarette and shut his eyes, seeking refuge in the smoke mixed with cold winter air.

 

“ _The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment._ ”

 

_Don’t struggle, goddamnit._

 

The seasons would be changing soon. The term was almost over.

 

“ _The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment._ ”

 

_You taste so good._

 

He sighed.

 

There was no point – not in listening to that same, monotonous voice, at least – which was perhaps what he used as an excuse to with numb, yet shaky fingers tap a message that he had never before even had nightmares about considering. He held his breath, hoping that it would kill him, praying that lack of oxygen would save him from himself.

 

Pressing ‘send’ was easier than waiting since he had already accepted and embraced his own stupidity, and when Baekhyun replied, he inhaled once again as though even something as simple as dying was something he would fail at miserably in the end. Not hesitating to dial the number which he had for some insane reason just asked for, he bit his own tongue in pace with the signals.

 

The reason behind his decision was absurd, thus would he bury it deep within himself.

 

“ _Hello?_ ” he heard after seconds or maybe minutes, and that was when he fully realised just how pathetic he had turned out to be. There it was, that arrogant voice, that tone which was so cold and devoid of any gentleness. It had him shiver with not only anger, but also with some kind of deep-rooted fear, still causing him to question his own motives and stutter his greeting without much delay.

 

“Hey, it’s… Sehun,” he let out with enough strength, but silence followed, and then a click.

 

He sighed again.

 

It's not like he really wanted to talk to Luhan, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short summary of what happened on /that/ night: *deep raspy voice actor voice* previously on sisyphus & icarus:
> 
> sexing are sexing and lu walks in → threesome with lu, hunhan make out → hunhan have sex whilst xing showers → they go to sleep → xing has an attack, lu fucks him, hun cries next to them → xing falls asleep, lu fucks hun → they fall asleep, all together in xing’s big cosy bed → hun leaves as soon as they wake up → chapter sixteen.


	17. Chapter 17

“Eat,” Jongin ordered as he waved a piece of something before Sehun’s eyes that refused to focus. It was the umpth attempt—and failure—since morning to feed his roommate who had all of a sudden stopped caring about nutrition. “Stop whining, you kid. My cooking might not _look_ that good, but it's tasty, I swear. Come on now, baby, here comes the airpla–”

 

Sehun slapped his hand away and released a sound of protest that made him resemble a dying pigeon rather than a human. He didn't need any food, was what he told himself naively—the anguish filling him up from the inside worked well enough to have his guts do somersaults until the point where even his own saliva had him gag. “The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment” had furthermore been stuck in his head for days in a row now, and not even in the noisy cafeteria was he free from that monotonous reminder of that Yixing was either dead or ignoring him. Long story short: he wasn’t hungry.

 

Jongin, of course, wouldn't let his child of a roommate walk out of lunch without consuming even a single snack. Not because of some motherly love, it seemed, but rather because of the painful knowledge of that lectures spent beside another’s rumbling stomach didn't exactly help soothe his own afternoon hunger. Useless piecharts and PowerPoint clipart did, moreover, already look appetising enough as it was to him who so often slept through breakfast.

 

“Fasting won't make whatever you're dealing with any easier, you know,” he thus chided whilst sending not-so-discreet glances at a certain table empty of two very special exchange students as if he knew the exact cause for this silent petulance. “Besides, you have me. How come you haven’t talked to _me_ about it? You’d always come running to my house in tears whenever your parents said that you were too old for teddies—remember?—and now you won’t even tell me what’s wrong. I’m not your best friend for nothing, you know, still it seems like even Baek knows more about your shit than I do. I really think I deserve some goddamn trust–”

 

Sehun ignored him by turning away only to regret it immediately when met with something equally annoying. The mentioned one and Chanyeol—the newly sprung couple or whatever who still didn’t hesitate to laugh those rumours away—were just eating in peace, conversing calmly, not cuddling nor even sitting close, yet Sehun’s resprung misanthropy and secret jealousy left him with no choice but to groan in disgust.

 

They irked him nowadays, those two, despite Baekhyun having seemed rather alright to him before since he was the only close friend aware of his orientation. Truth was, however, that everything had irked Sehun during the past few days, especially anything that would remind him even remotely of a feeling which he had himself for months been trying to suppress. Chanyeol smiling at Luhan’s ex—Sehun strongly suspected that Baekhyun had relinquished his previous title—didn’t give birth to any happiness on behalf of the couple. On the contrary, actually—Sehun didn’t want them to smile or be happy. He didn’t want Baekhyun’s lips to curl upwards when there was, in fact, a high possibility that those very pieces of soft, pink flesh had in one way or another been touching not only one exchange student, but two.

 

He zoomed out, unwillingly recalling parts of his latest night with Yixing.

 

“ _I want you too, Lulu, like with Baek. Like with Cha–”_

 

He didn’t dare complete that sentence on his own.

 

His unintentional grimace, luckily, earned him a hard slap on the back of his head, and had he not been too proud to acknowledge the pain had he perhaps thanked Jongin for dispersing those thoughts that weren’t anything but self-destructive. Notwithstanding reading himself to rise from the table and leave his friends, to binge smoke a packet or two in spite of the snow that had been falling for days like some divine barrage, he grabbed his bag only to find something edible shoved forcibly into his mouth.

 

It tasted like nothing.

 

Great effort was what it took for him then to not spit the food right out and instead keep it in his mouth like the mature adult that he pretended to be. Chewing and chewing while trying not to look towards that table, that stupid table which looked so empty, he let worry and shame disguise as blame and an ungrounded irritation with his roommate who kept feeding him.

 

Jongin claimed that his behaviour was childish, but what he didn't understand was actually quite simple—starving those silly but great problems away did actually not hurt that much compared to everything else that had been happening. Perhaps masochism was contagious, after all, Sehun thought as he regurgitated into his mouth while carelessly wondering if Luhan would agree to strangle him to death like he himself had almost done to Yixing.

 

 

–

 

 

When one exchange student showed up unexpectedly at campus one morning, looking like Death had stopped by a dozen times too many, Sehun was actually too exhausted to care or even notice that the usual glares had turned a little less hostile and a whole lot more awkward. Batting an eye only when Luhan decided to bump into him with force, he paused in his steps towards the lecture hall and looked down at the guy with whom he had for some absurd reason locked lips with while fucking some week ago or so.

 

“How did you get my number and why did you call me?” were the only questions he had to answer at that moment, but his response was as unsatisfactory as Luhan’s lack of intimidating words and the rather apathetic expression on his usually conceited face.

 

“Baek gave it to me. I don’t know.”

 

It was a lie, but not entirely, and all Sehun could focus on whilst Luhan remained grounded before him were the deep, dark circles under the latter’s eyes and the many stitches reaching from his temple to eyebrow. He didn’t ask, though, and Luhan didn’t approach him again.

 

A bit of worry still surfaced, however, when his nemesis fainted in the cafeteria the next morning, but that didn’t stop him from grinning maliciously. Although murder wasn’t on his own list of chores, Luhan dying wouldn’t bother him that much. One pretty face less in the world would, in fact, be a dream come true for Sehun who had turned out to be weaker than a hormone driven adolescent on ecstasy. If Yixing had managed to pout his way through his sturdy armour of feigned aromanticism, who was to claim that Luhan—that cunning bitch—didn’t hold some secret means to slither into his heart as well?

 

It was a ridiculous fear, but a fear nonetheless, for if there was anything that Sehun didn’t want right now, it was another reason to feel sorry for himself.

 

 

–

 

 

He had long since stopped dialling his favourite number when Yixing appeared in the cafeteria again. Luhan was already there by their table, his stitches removed and his bruise almost gone but with his face just as weary, as were the other exchange students who greeted their friend with smiles looking forced and words that sounded polite, if anything.

 

Something must have happened, because Yixing ended up sitting somewhere else that lunch.

 

Sehun didn’t grieve his own lack of lipreading skills since the languages he knew were limited to two, and little did he need to ponder over alternatives to conclude that the few words exchanged between Yixing and Luhan weren’t exactly ones of appreciation. He saw the look on his fuck buddy’s face when Luhan said something without looking up, saw the way Yixing lowered his head while pouting before turning away with obvious reluctance to look for another table to sit by. What he couldn’t figure out, though, was why Luhan, of all people, would whisk his precious little Xing away, why he who had used to act so overprotective would now sport such coldness while his best friend looked so sad.

 

The other exchange student’s rather pitying expressions seemed to fly right past Yixing who just stood there for a minute, scanning the room which was crowded with people, just like Jongin’s questioning glances were left unnoticed by Sehun who just couldn’t tear his eyes away. Not until their eyes met on accident did the one who had been gone for a week actually move, and not until he started walking towards Sehun could the latter bring himself to lower his own head.

 

It was awkward when he reached them, and not a single word was exchanged between them two even when Yixing sat down at their table and started stuffing himself with food as though there was no tomorrow. Jongin, of course, wouldn’t stop gawking whilst Baekhyun and Chanyeol, on the other hand, looked away, and although there was so much to say and to ask, Sehun’s surprise and mental exhaustion didn’t allow him to even open his mouth.

 

There were so many questions that had been festering in his mind and even more apologies for things he had done, yet he kept staring at his own untouched lunch box without openly acknowledging that his friend was now finally right there beside him, shovelling food into his already stuffed mouth as if sauce wasn’t escaping through the corners of his lips. While Sehun wanted to grab Yixing by the shoulders and drag him out of the cafeteria just to hug, he didn’t even ask him how he had been or why he was suddenly trying to smother himself with rice.

 

“...you okay there, Xing-Xing?”

 

The question came suddenly yet unsurprisingly, pronounced by Jongin who looked offended on behalf of Yixing because of Sehun’s seeming lack of concern. Repeating himself louder when the exchange student kept forcing down chunks of unchewed food that probably held the potential to kill him, he leant in closer and tapped his shoulder.

 

“Hello? Earth to boyfriend?”

 

Yixing flinched then, suddenly looking up, and it wasn’t until those unanticipated words that Sehun showed the first sign of sentience that day.

 

“Very funny, asshole,” was what the latter blurted as if suddenly needing to protect his own image. Jongin didn’t _know_ was what he had been telling himself his entire life, fooling his own brain into actually believing that his sexual orientation was a secret well hidden. Jongin didn’t _know_ that his best friend liked men, that he had during their high school years kissed boys and not girls, and he absolutely didn’t _know_ that although Yixing could not be considered his _boyfriend_ , he had definitely turned out to be more than just a _friend_.

 

It was ironic, if anything, that Yixing would be the one to save him since he had never been one to spare others the pleasure of watching them hold hands in public. It was almost funny how he, of all people, with a half-hearted answer to Jongin’s question prevented his fuck buddy from blurting anything more.

 

“I’m fine,” was what he mumbled indistinctly, his glossy lips adorned by a smile looking feigned and with his cheeks still stuffed and ready to burst due to an overload of vegetables and undercooked meat. Swallowing before continuing in order to actually be able to speak at all, he lowered his head once again whilst with his palm wiping some excessive sauce off his chin. “I'm fine, really. I’ve been a bit sick, but I’m fine now.”

 

A few coughs and snivels followed then but were as fake as the cute little smile remaining on his face. Sehun's flustered self could tell as much, yet he didn't dare to ask or even drag him away for some much-needed privacy.

 

It wasn't really true, however, that Sehun wasn't painfully aware of that the cause for Yixing’s week-long absence must have been something that happened during that night with Luhan, be it the kisses, the fucking, or some physical injury. Perhaps Yixing had caught some disease, but Sehun didn’t dare to even think of that possibility, and even more afraid was he to visit the doctor although a checkup was paramount lest his future self would himself with erectile dysfunction or a severe inflammation of the urinary tract. He was a man of avoidance, Sehun who had never cared about life; he was anxious, avoidant, and unable to manage conflict, so would it actually turn out that Yixing had infected him with chlamydia, syphilis, or—God forbid—something worse, would he probably not even mention it at all.

 

So, no: disease being the reason for Yixing’s absence wasn’t on the list of possibilities. Sehun refused to consider it at all.

 

Five minutes later or so, Yixing had choked on several vegetables but did still show no sign of pausing his binge eating. Ready to grab his spoon to stop him when the messy sight got too sad to handle, Sehun shut his own untouched lunch box and sighed only for his attempt to get interrupted before it even started. Chanyeol had finally broken his and Baekhyun's impenetrable bubble, yet he kept ignoring Yixing.

 

“So, Sehun,” he began with a cough, earning an admonitory glance from Baekhyun who seemed fully aware of what was about to be spoken. “A little birdie whispered in my ear last night. It told me that you got a girlfriend.”

 

Complete silence followed for a while save for the sound of food falling freely from Yixing's suddenly gaping mouth. Sehun just stared, as did Jongin, and whilst Baekhyun looked ready to kill Chanyeol, he kicked his chin beneath the table instead.

 

“ _Ouch, wha–_ ”

 

“You heard _what?_ ”

 

“What I just said,” Chanyeol whined. “That Sehun got himself a girlfriend.” He paused then and purported to be innocent, his eyebrows raised as if he had no clue whatsoever of that he was, in fact, causing drama that held the potential to do harm. So many could see it, though, the beginning of that amused smirk which exposed him as a liar without revealing his intentions. “Some girl in your cultural anthropology class, I heard. What’s her name again… Jinri or something? The one he gave oral to last week.”

 

Yixing snapped his neck around to peer up at Sehun through wide open eyes that were clouded and wet for reasons one could only guess. Jongin choked on nothing before shouting.

 

“Dude, that was a jo–”

 

“An oral _exam_ , Chanyeol! We had an _oral exam_ together!” Sehun’s dumbfounded expression transformed into a choleric glower that would have had even Luhan’s intimidating face look sweet in comparison, and had he not been too shocked by this unexpected rumour had be been rolling his eyes at his coursemate’s lack of tact. “She is not my girlfriend, and I did not ‘give her oral’. What the hell are you on about?”

 

Chanyeol feigned a surprised expression whilst side-eyeing Yixing who was still staring at Sehun. The boy was a gullible fool, it seemed, apparently too credulous to see through those lies.

 

“Really? You’re not dating? I just thought that… Since you seem quite close and all.”

 

Sehun did in that particular moment want nothing more than to murder his coursemate who knew perfectly well that what he was saying wasn’t true. He had a hunch, of course, of what was going on, of that Chanyeol was perhaps, just like him, suspecting that Baekhyun had been with not only Luhan, but Yixing as well. Why he would decide to bother Sehun for this, though, the latter didn’t know.

 

...unless it was because of that Yixing, who was now sitting by their very table, was like all other people driven partially by jealousy. Maybe Chanyeol was actually clever enough to suspect that Yixing might feel hurt if hearing that Sehun—his toy, fuck buddy, lover, or whatever—had found someone else to fulfil his needs. If that was indeed the case, then Chanyeol did  in the end, have a more positive image of Sehun and Yixing’s relationship than anyone, for no matter how much Yixing’s lips were now suddenly trembling and no matter how glistening his eyes had turned, Sehun denied all signs of him wanting anything more than just a sexual friendship.

 

He still wanted to scream on the top of his lungs, though, wanted to grab Yixing and shake him violently until “IT’S NOT TRUE!” became the only truth. His delusional self couldn’t figure out why his friend looked ready to start crying at any moment, yet he wanted to wipe off that look of unforeseen sadness and inexplicable disappointment. His own subconscious was begging him to realise, in other words.

 

Instead, however, turning to Baekhyun for help since Jongin had sought refuge in a package of juice, he plastered on his most desperate expression while hoping that his evident disquiet would not reveal too much about himself. Beside him, now closer in distance, Yixing had lowered his head back down, but with his appetite, on the other hand, seemingly gone.

 

“What’s your boyfriend’s agenda?” Sehun asked, almost snapping at Baekhyun for only frowning in response. ”Come one, tell me! What kind of a childish joke is this?”

 

The asked one mumbled then, clearly not of any use at all.

 

“First of all, he is not my boyfriend, Luhan is. Second of all–”

 

Chanyeol snorted.

 

“Now you’re spreading rumours yourself, Sehun, aren’t you? Because I’m not gay. That’d be gross.” Baekhyun’s face showed a mix of pain and anger, but Chanyeol continued without batting an eyelid. “Besides, the thing about Jinri is just something I heard, and the oral thing–”

 

Sehun snapped because of so many reasons, almost rising from his chair at that moment. Who would have known that one of his friends would turn out to be a self-hating, cunning homophobe in denial? While he was annoyed with Baekhyun for having probably slept with Yixing at some point, Sehun saw the look on his face and felt pity towards him mix with disappointment and the suddenly enhanced pain in his own chest. He didn’t mention any of this, though, not wanting to raise his fists and get expelled from university for assaulting another student.

 

“Just something you heard, huh?” he murmured instead, not even thinking at all when his own hand sought Yixing’s to clasp with under the table. “Well, okay then. Now you know it isn’t true.”

 

Chanyeol nodded then and that was it, an agreement set that fights were unnecessary. Ignorance is bliss, is what they say so often, and so Sehun pulled his friend up to stand before walking out with a hand in his.

 

Yixing kept following him like a duckling that day, and truth was with all else set aside that although Sehun had usually been worrying about glances from people whispering things as if they _knew_ , he now didn’t care that their fingers were entwined. For a week or so had he been deprived of this—this being skinship and just _being_ with Yixing—so for once in his lifetime of pretending to be straight, he dropped all those legitimate concerns and let his gaze—just for now—show everyone around him just exactly what his stupid, self-destructive heart was longing for.

 

Still, when he found himself at home that night, he couldn’t help but pray incessantly that sleep would come and take him forever.

 

 

–

 

 

Morning arrived followed by afternoon, with fuck buddies acting as though nothing had happened, as though their friendship wasn’t ruinously complicated. Hunched over some desk in the library, having watched Yixing chew anxiously on a pencil for hours, Sehun hoped that this silence would not be broken and that this comfortable impasse would remain for just a bit. His own teeth hurt by just looking at the other, yet it was preferable to talking about… things.

 

“I didn’t know you have a girlfriend.”

 

Yixing mumbled it out of the blue with graphite on his lips that were pouting only slightly. Sehun just sighed, wanting nothing more than to forget that shit.

 

Since yesterday lunch had he actually believed that Yixing would come to realise on his own that those ridiculous words uttered by Chanyeol had been but a childish way to mess with some feelings and to stir up drama because of jealousy and spite. Never had Sehun thought that his friend’s naivete was so deep-rooted, that a student of philosophy—a _sceptic_ like himself—could not see through lies and poorly timed jokes.

 

He would probably have laughed at that cute little pout be it not for himself having been pondering for hours over if regular painkillers dissolved in wine would be lethal.

 

“I don’t have a girlfriend, I wasn’t lying,” he breathed out heavily, following that up with an insincere chuckle. No matter how annoyed he still was, he didn’t want to reveal his irritation and cause this awkward situation to become even more so. “It’s just that Jongin has taught Chanyeol how to fuck with people.”

 

Yixing didn’t speak again until a minute later, after too many seconds of silently carving abstract doodles into the desk before him with the chewed pencil which he had snapped into two.

 

“Why would he lie about that?” he asked then, barely audible, and while Sehun could at least guess the answer, he opted to keep the issue unspoken.

 

“It wasn’t really a lie since he believed it himself, I guess. You know what I mean–”

 

Yixing raised his voice on a sudden, his pout getting replaced by something entirely else as he stabbed his own textbook with the broken pencil.

 

“Yes, I know exactly what you mean,” he said, seething in a way so unusual for him, “so let me rephrase: why would Chanyeol even say that out loud?”

 

It left Sehun confounded, and a little bit afraid.

 

He recognised that rare expression, that same flash of unexpected anger which he had seen only once at that disastrous party. It had been right there then when he got pressed against some wall and hugged as though tomorrow wasn’t real, after Yixing had released his strength at the girl who had stuck her tongue into his beau's mouth. He had looked _angry_ then, just like now, before he had run away later to exchange saliva with Luhan.

 

Sehun shuddered at that unwelcome memory, yet still wondering what that anger had really been. Jealousy, perhaps? No, not at all. Such stupid nonsense would have been foolish to believe.

 

Gathering his wits to formulate an answer, deciding, in the end, to spare him the truth, Sehun attempted his most serious face whilst preparing himself to ultimately deny the feelings which he had developed for his friend. His reasoning was simple and not that flawed: if jealousy wasn’t the cause of Yixing’s agitation, then why would Sehun need to explain himself at all?

 

“Maybe,” he began, inhaling deeply, “Chanyeol thinks that I’m with _you_ , or something.” He feigned a laugh as Yixing’s anger seemed to cool significantly, but the noises leaving his own strained lips came out like nothing more than a choked gasp. Lying hurt, he realised then. “If _we_ were together, then he and Jongin would probably wanna embarrass me enough for me to admit it. You know, that I like men. That I like you—if I actually did, that is.”

 

Maybe, in the end, those words were just a test. _Maybe_ Sehun just wanted to see if Yixing would really want something more. It didn’t matter that he had ever since they met in this very library the first time been given so many fucking crucial hints, that Yixing had once even asked him to kiss him; Sehun was, as already mentioned, disgustingly oblivious and a creature of avoidance who knew that he would soon be left all alone.

 

He really was stupid was what anyone would have told him, for if there was anything he should have expected, it was the exact reaction which Yixing gave him now as he looked up with eyes that were wide and gleaming. He really was stupid—Sehun who wouldn’t believe that he was loved—since he had never during their short time of friendship anticipated this situation at all.

 

The face before him told a story of betrayal, of a heart breaking after hearing those words. “I don’t like you like that,” was what Yixing’s eyes reflected at that moment, and that was when Sehun realised, at last, finally after months of denial, that his own feelings were actually reciprocated.

 

“You’re not…” was what Yixing mumbled, dumbstruck in a way he had never been before. “Wait, you’re not..?

 

He broke eye contact and lowered his head, all of that previous agitation washed away and replaced with a shame that would have been visible to anyone. It was all the confirmation that Sehun needed despite having not believed in it before, but before he could decide whether to take back what he had said, Yixing broke and started crying right there.

 

“Of course you’re not in love with me,” he laughed, snivelling softly while wiping his tears without even trying to conceal it. “That’d be weird, wouldn’t it,” he continued, his voice weak and revealing everything.

 

Sehun just stared for the longest of moments. He knew that this was the time to admit it, to lay it all out and explain it in detail. His insides were boiling because of his own stupidity, yet he remained quiet where he sat, in the end standing by his promise to himself that since Yixing would leave, there was no point in confessing anything.

 

“Yes,” he said eventually, not wanting to, trying to laugh the pain away while feeling like a bolt had been shot through his chest. “It would,” he lied while watching Yixing break even more, cursing himself for having let it go this far. “You’re my friend, and you're leaving. Why would I be in love with you?”

 

He didn’t leave the library alone, and he still spent the night beneath blankets on a rooftop that was cold and dirty but felt like home. It hurt, of course, that they started pretending, that their conversation had been but another contract stating that just because they fucked every day and shared body heat while watching the stars, they weren’t anything close to lovers.

 

Sehun did in spite of their continued business have to tell himself that he wasn’t in love, that it had all just been a silly crush and his hormones having driven him to confuse passion with love. He told himself that he wasn’t in love with this adorable exchange student who had happened to step into his life without warning, that he wasn’t in love with this wonderful person who would soon board a plane with Luhan back home.

 

He wasn’t in love with Yixing, he just wasn’t. He loved him so much, but he wasn’t in love—or was it perhaps the other way around? No matter the truth, how complicated or simple the situation could be made, Sehun would probably have to kill them both if he ever decided on some drunken night to reveal his own fucked up feelings after already having denied it all. He thought about it later when Yixing stopped himself from slithering up closer after getting thoroughly fucked against the kitchenette counter; maybe a double suicide would work, if the entire truth ever happened to get spilt.

 

...yes, a double suicide would definitely work. Sehun had already read all about it in epic poems and tales of love, so who was to tell him that it wasn't for them?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I'm going to try to update more often from now on ♡ Please tell me what you think so far!


	18. Chapter 18

Sehun couldn’t let go of the feeling the as he lay naked on Yixing’s cum-stained couch with his already limp dick inside the other’s clenching ass.

 

Perhaps he had just been imagining something, that yesterday’s tears had been the product of heartbreak. Maybe his misery had gotten the best of him in the end, having his self-defense mechanisms turn the opposite direction and start protecting his heart in a way which would turn out the most ineffective in the long run. Perhaps his own head was just brainwashing itself, making him believe, at last, that Yixing’s reaction had actually meant that he felt something, too.

 

That _could_ be the case, but Sehun would suddenly not buy it at all for as long as he was an empiricist at heart.

 

Him arguing for Locke’s tabula rasa was actually quite laughable since he hadn’t until now stopped disregarding all those signs. Then again, though, had irony become a part of his being and the rule by which he lived unintentionally yet unconditionally. For a while now had he walked around feeling like a toy after Luhan not-so-discreetly murmured that very word at Baekhyun’s house, but he knew his Heraclitus and he knew that things changed. Ever-newer water flows on those who step into the same rivers twice, and as Sehun now waded through his own distorted mind, he got hit by a discharge of new assessments and infant realisations.

 

Yixing was hiding something, but failing miserably; that was Sehun’s conclusion, in the end. Be it sadness, regret, bitterness, or anger—something had been gnawing on his brain since yesterday, yet he kept laughing, smiling, and begging for pain as though Sehun’s words had not caused him to cry. He didn’t mention their conversation at all, didn’t explain why his tears had fallen as a result of Sehun denying his own feelings, and if the latter had not discarded his rationality, he would have praised that fact instead of suddenly grieving it.

 

He saw through the cracks of that swollen façade, and he finally believed those glimpses of light—Yixing had actually hoped for something more, undeterred by what his own ambiguous actions had been conveying. This was what Sehun could not let go off as he dressed after yet another round of destruction, after playing the role of Yixing’s little toy by abusing his body while fucking it limp.

 

His hands had been on that neck only minutes ago despite him having sworn not to touch it again, and the pain derived from not feeling loved was replaced now by one of not knowing what to do;

 

To tell Yixing and dig two graves at once, or to keep it buried in his aching chest until time turned it into but a sad, sad memory—that was, rather than some contemplation on existence, the real question which needed prompt answering.

 

He sighed as the weight of another body got lifted from his own, and as Yixing pulled him by the hand up to stand, a decision was made; he wouldn’t tell him that he was painfully in love. Watching his sweet little exchange student leave would be hard enough even without a breakup, thus would doing so while discontinuing something newborn hurt even more than simply moving on in life.

 

 

 

 

The ground below was already speckled with cigarette stumps melting holes in the snow when Yixing spoke. It had been an hour, maybe more, of them silently smoking and so did his voice sound like cancer embodied, its coarseness enhanced by his previous moans.

 

“What if there is actually a meaning to life?”

 

He followed it up with a shiver beneath that all too thin blanket when a cold breeze dashed by and ruffled his hair, lifting that ragged fabric as it slipped in through the openings. Melancholy disguised itself as the low rays of daybreak as it painted his face a dull shade of yellow, and Sehun had to admit as they stood there freezing that he had, after all, missed these types of pretentious conversations.

 

“You and your meaning, silly” he chuckled with a cough whilst for once not entirely ignoring the warmth brought by his skin against another’s with goosebumps. “Have you finally gone mad?”

 

Yixing pouted without his usual silliness.

 

“Am I not already?”

 

Melted snowflakes crystallised on his face but Sehun could not see it as his eyes were on the skyline. Lighting yet another cigarette for himself since disease was just a future problem, the latter smiled and inhaled the cheap brand smoke.

 

“Not to me, you’re not,” he lied, shutting his eyes just as Yixing’s cold back brushed against his chest.

 

Silence followed with burns on fingers marking each minute, with ashes layering themselves on the balcony railing only to get flicked right off by soft, cold currents. Had it been months ago had it probably been soothing—the distinct chirping of late winter birds mixed with the distant buzzing of early morning traffic—but time is a linear concept and Sehun had, moreover, long since embraced the fact that panta rhei applied even to their complicated lives. The handful of tiny spring birds having migrated back way too early was proof of that, as were the fresh bruises adorning Yixing’s neck anew.

 

“ _I know simply that the sky will last longer than I,_ ” popped into Sehun’s brain again after months, that stupid quote by that stupid old man repeating itself along with the sound of self-composed tunes on an imaginary piano. It kept playing and playing, merging with the February song, until his hand had turned into his own personal ashtray after minutes of him not paying attention to the cigarette.

 

Not until the neighbours woke and started making noises downstairs did he actually stop to think about that sentence; who could actually claim with certainty that the sky would not fall before him?

 

A sigh did eventually cut his sombre thoughts off, but the following words didn’t ease the wistfulness.

 

“What if,” was what Yixing began with while tossing a crumpled bundle of tobacco to the ground. Smoke and breath emerged in waves from his lips as coughs escaped through in between the mumbled words. ”What if I was to say that I think I’ve found the meaning of life?”

 

Sehun laughed at that ridiculous query, yet admiring the other’s dedication.

 

“Then I’d call you either dishonest or deluded. There isn’t any inherent meaning, so to say that you’ve found it would be nothing but ignorant. It’s possible to create your own meaning, of course, but I know this side of you well enough now to know that you didn’t mean it like that.”

 

Yixing pulled him closer on a sudden then, forcing his arms to wrap around him from behind.

 

“But it’s true,” he whined, having Sehun who gave into the touch raise an eyebrow. Continuing with a voice that was weak but nonetheless sincere, he entwined their fingers like so many times before. “I think I’ve found the meaning of life.”

 

Sehun shook his head, unconvinced, knowing that the other was far from uneducated.

 

“This is it, you silly creature,” he sighed. “You’ve finally gone mad.”

 

Amused giggles replaced counterarguments, but he couldn’t bring himself to even mimic that laughter. Life is just ludicrous in the grander scheme, and his pathetic self is pushing a boulder up a mountain only to watch it roll back in endless perpetuity. As if probably Yixing, in essence, if one is to take his highly self-destructive way of life into considering.

 

“One must imagine Sisyphus happy, you know.” A most sad smile adorned the latter’s lips whose dimple looked almost as deep as the ineffable void that was the seemingly nonexistent reason behind it. “Maybe you should take the Absurd as a lucid invitation to live and to create in the very midst of the desert–”

 

“Maybe I should remind you,” Sehun interrupted then, “that you once begged me to _stop quoting that stupid old man._ ”

 

Yixing's smile died after only seconds of existence as he replaced it with a pout looking just a bit offended, and when he turned his face back towards the city, his fingers fell from Sehun's and stayed down.

 

“Keep suffering, then, asshole,” he murmured quietly before lighting yet another carcinogenic stick, letting the blanket fall from his shoulder to the floor as if snowflakes weren't still falling from the sky. The words didn’t hold any clear hostility, but a discernible bitterness that would put even Job's wife to the test.

 

Sehun wondered why he didn't walk away, Yixing who was apparently in the same boat as him.

 

 

 

 

Yixing woke up unexpectedly that night, screaming with fear at the top of his lungs whilst banging his forehead against the cum-stained wall. It took a few moments for Sehun to calm down since he still knew neither the reason nor the trigger, but once he did, he realised something out of uttermost importance; there was no point in letting his own panic win as whispered words of reassurance and lies seemed to work better than any prescripted sedative. Slapping Yixing across the face like he would sometimes do when asked to hurt him wouldn't bring them out of this nightmarish trance, and so, instead of doing just that, he held the other for the longest of times.

 

“Tell me why you’re scared,” he asked eventually, wiping off tears that kept streaming without intermission. “Tell me the real reason and I’ll tell you mine.”

 

There came no answer, only quiet snivels, and maybe it was actually better that way.

 

 

–

 

 

Sehun would have been lying if he was to say that he would under less complicated circumstances have minded Luhan’s dick up his ass every now and then. A sexual relationship devoid of any friendliness didn’t sound so bad, after all, but Lulu was _Lulu_ and Yixing’s best friend, thus did recollections of his bodily manoeuvres not stop Sehun from rejoicing the fact that they had stopped acknowledging each other’s existences.

 

There were none of those threatening glares, neither any confusingly suggestive ones. Yixing eventually returned to their table after a week of spending his lunches with Sehun, and although Luhan went back to holding him after his own bruises had faded and his stitches were plucked out, it didn’t bother Sehun as much anymore. The latter wouldn’t have been able to explain it since he didn’t even understand it himself—the reason that lay behind his sudden indifference, why Luhan’s arm around Yixing’s waist and his lips brushing against an ear while whispering had turned into something which gave birth to sadness, but not jealousy.

 

No explanation was simple enough, but one was more likely than any other; after suppressing his own feelings whilst not figuring out Yixing’s, after finally letting go and realising the truth, Sehun had forced himself back to square one where any four-letter word beginning with an L was no longer part of his impressive vocabulary. He knew very well that Yixing would leave and that neither of them had enough money to invest in further emigration, and so would it be only stupid of him to now, after months, suggest a relationship.

 

It wouldn’t have worked, anyway, probably; with Yixing being a full-blown satyromania and Luhan acting like his incestuous parent, any commitment would have resulted in only tears.

 

They didn’t spend as much time together as they had before this all went to hell. It would be untrue to say that they _avoided_ each other or that their multiplying fights weren’t just quarrels, but none of them was really _present_ when their fingers entwined or when their bodies connected. Late night meetings turned less chatty despite them having returned to discuss the metaphysical, and although the roof was still a place to sleep, their bodies had turned colder and their heart beats slower. Sex turned more violent and choking more dangerous, and with each new time that Yixing passed out, Sehun panicked a little bit less.

 

_Donk!_

 

“Ouch!” Sehun’s sleepy pondering over this week’s sessions got disrupted by his roommate hitting him with a spoon. Covering his head in late self-defence, he glared at Baekhyun who laughed at his reaction, not really knowing why the latter was in their flat, especially not at ten in the evening and _especially_ not on what was to their crazy friend usually a night on which to party.

 

He didn’t really have time to ask, though, as his head and face kept getting attacked by that spoon.

 

“Stop it, assho– What the– _Ouch_ –”

 

“Tell me!” Jongin shouted right out before retreating, like the overgrown teenager he became at times as Baekhyun kept slurping on some takeaway tea. Sehun didn’t want to admit that his roommate was more of a mother than an annoying brother, not even as he himself whined like a child whilst massaging his scalp on which bumps would surely grow.

 

He didn’t want to converse at all and even less discuss whatever it was that his roommate wanted to know. His life was already miserable as it was and he wanted nothing more than to sleep the pain away, so little did he need someone to meddle in his business in front of Baekhyun who already knew too much.

 

His friend, of course, wasn’t his best for nothing and found no reason not to squeeze out some tea.

 

“What happened between you two?” Jongin asked whilst waving the spoon—that lethal weapon—in front of Sehun, and while the latter knew exactly what he meant, he refused to disclose even a fragment of truth. What point was there in revealing it, anyway, when nothing would change the situation for the better?

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled instead then, and that was when Jongin leant back with a sigh after only a minute of actually trying. The statement was a lie as obvious as Sehun’s bad mood, and while his roommate had always been way too meddlesome if deeming it necessary for the greater good, he knew when the battle was lost before it started. He knew that Sehun bore a layer of obstinacy that would harden until bulletproof in times of distress, thus did he give up the fight for the moment.

 

“I can’t believe my best friend is lying to me,” he muttered between his teeth before rising from the table without even hiding his annoyance, leaving said friend alone with Baekhyun who sat quiet and still whilst looking out the window.

 

The latter had avoided the conversation altogether, had sipped overpriced beverage through the straw of his mug as though the room in which he sat was a café and not his friends' kitchen. The sound of slurping and popping pearls bursting competed with the lack of words which followed with Jongin having left for bed in a fit, and it wasn’t until the last ice cube had melted that he finally turned to Sehun and spoke.

 

“Sorry for intruding your private space,” he chuckled with a tiny bit of obligatory shame wrapped in a grin looking sheepish yet nonetheless forced. “I came when you were napping earlier, didn’t even know you’d be here. You’re always with Xing nowadays, I’ve heard, haha.”

 

Sehun didn’t answer at all as he had nothing to say, nothing to add, but Baekhyun seemed to pay no heed to his current state of emotional strain.

 

“Jongin called me over to talk– to _play_ ,” he continued, smiling his way around that Freudian slip as though his reason for visiting instead of tripping balls with some stranger wasn’t obvious already with the way he was acting. “He called me over to play games. Video games. You know, on the TV?”

 

Sehun cocked his brow at that lie, knowing perfectly well what kind of dramatic gossip his best friend and questionable one liked to engage in.

 

“We don’t have a television,” he said then, squinting, causing Baekhyun to actually shut his mouth and lower his head, at loss for more words.

 

There was still a part of Sehun hoping—quite vainly so—that his sexual orientation remained unknown by his roommate. While his frontal lobes were fully aware of that his secret had probably been figured out by now, he liked to keep living his fucked up life according to some fairly accurate yet dangerous motto; self-delusion is bliss, as is self-destruction. Fooling himself that he wasn’t in love, fooling himself that life was pointless, fooling himself into believing for years that Jongin had no clue of that his bedmate liked men; it was all the same, just as perversely satisfying as deciding, at last, that he would forget Yixing once all this shit was over and done with—or, if absolute truth was to be spoken, as satisfying as misleading himself into thinking that he would actually be able to let go of his exchange student.

 

He let his head fall to the table with a thump, his rationality slowly catching up with his self-composed chimaera.

 

“Whatever,” was eventually mumbled by Baekhyun who sat watching him uncomfortably with a frown on his face, the following sentences spat out without hesitation as he seemed to see no point in avoiding the topic any further. “I’m just gonna say it: I’m sorry about Chanyeol, okay? He can really be an insolent douche sometimes. Making up stuff like that just to fuck with people.” He laughed bitterly as Sehun reacted by lifting his head just enough to peek up through his fringe, although impassive. “You, of all people, probably won’t believe it, but even Luhan is nicer sometimes. He might not have his shit together and he might try to destroy everyone who tries to take his ‘ _little Xing_ ’ away from him, but he’s actually quite alright once you get through all those layers of insecurities. More than alright, actually, when you get to know him. He cares, you know, he really does, and he doesn’t hate you as much as he displays. Regardless of that, though…” He shut his eyes for a moment or two, sighing deeply as if embarrassed about his boyfriend’s—or whatever—disrespectful behaviour, “I’m sorry that he has acted this way towards you. I don't know exactly what he's done, but I'm pretty sure that you don't deserve.”

 

There came no response save for an exhausted scoff from Sehun who couldn’t find it in him to believe that Luhan could be anything but a devil in disguise, and so did Baekhyun drop another apology, no longer on behalf of somebody else.

 

“And… I’m sorry, too. For, you know…” He fiddled with the edges of his empty tea mug, tearing the styrofoam apart nervously whilst thus revealing a part of himself which his usual confidence rarely bowed down to. “I know how much you guys like each other– I mean, not you and Luhan, of course, but… What I wanna say, Sehun, is that I won’t sleep with them– _him_ again, I promise. We’re just friends and you know that, but I won’t touch him, I swear. I’m fed up with this shit, anyway, all this unnecessary drama.”

 

Sehun just nodded in spite of all those stuttered words, not wanting to even hear about it. Reminders of that Yixing was looser than a whore after having been with half the population weren’t welcome, neither was confirmation of that Baekhyun was aware of that Sehun not only slept him with him, too, but also felt at least a little bit more than just platonic attraction.

 

It was an awkward thing—having had to listen to this monologue—but an imperative one when all came around.

 

“Yeah, okay, so… Anyway, I… I’ll leave then, I guess. But hey,” Baekhyun cleared his throat as he readied himself to leave his poor friend to his own inherent and now complemented misery. Rising to his feet to pat Sehun’s back from across the table, he lowered his voice as if suddenly realising that Jongin was still in the other room. “Maybe it’s best if you talk about it, you two.”

 

Sehun wasn’t even sure at all of who it was that had been referred to in that useless advice, if it was Luhan and him who needed to make peace, Jongin and him who should have shared some secrets, or Yixing and him who needed to… well, consider their options. Neither of the alternatives felt even a little bit tempting to Sehun who would rather just fall from a building, hence the unintentional irritation in his voice.

 

“Talk about _what?_ ” he asked with a wheeze, although suppressing his sudden urge to shove Baekhyun’s hand away from himself and devour it raw in a fit of insanity. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what to do—that was at least what his pride preferred to claim.

 

Baekhyun retorded whilst rolling his eyes, seemingly fed up with this neglect of the issue which he himself, in all honestly, had little to do with.

 

“How am I supposed to know?” He removed his hand and stepped away from the annoyed one, no longer caring about that Jongin might hear him as he raised his voice just enough for him to do. “I only know from my _boyfriend_ that Yixing bawls his eyes out every other day and that it’s got _something_ to do with, let me quote, ‘ _that disgustingly beautiful, suicidal brat who can’t seem to keep his dirty little paws off my pretty little Xi–_ ’”

 

Sehun grabbed the nearest object—an orange, luckily—and threw it against Baekhyun without much force, yet with enough to have him pause his ranting. It wasn’t with an intention to injure that he did it, but to shut the other up quickly before he could remind him further of this disaster of a situation.

 

“Okay, okay, I get it, just–” he mumbled then as Baekhyun stared at him silently in surprise, the latter's eyes wide but devoid of accusation. "Just wait, please, wait just a minute."

 

He didn’t want those words to be true, didn’t want Yixing to cry over anything and least of all over someone like himself. He didn’t need a reason to feel bad about having decided to not make use of his romantic feelings when he already felt bad enough for himself to as it was, and he was furthermore too emotionally exhausted after having just realised that Yixing loved him, too.

 

“I’ll talk to him about it, okay?” he murmured eventually with a scowl on his face that had gone pale from malnutrition during these past few days. Rising to see if any harm had been done to Baekhyun whose sternum had been hit with that orange, he kept pronouncing words that weren't more than just avoidance wrapped in reluctantly spoken syllables. “Just… don’t mention this again, please. It’s complicated, okay? But I’ll fix it. Before he leaves, I’ll fix it.”

 

It was all a lie.

 

Baekhyun whisked his attempts to check on him away but nodded in response with a smile looking genuine, and that was when Sehun realised, at last, that the annoying little shit might not be that bad, after all. Perhaps he did just seem better in comparison to Sehun himself who had turned out to be but a mess of a human, but that didn't matter as long as it lasted.

 

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Sehun, you fool,” was the last advice he granted him before leaving, manifesting their somehow tightened bond with a one-armed hug that felt awkward, yet warm. “He’s one of a kind, and you won’t find another one like him, so don’t let Luhan dull your sparkle, hun.”

 

What he said wasn’t false, but it didn’t change the fact that Yixing would leave.

 

Getting over this whole ordeal would probably have been easier—Sehun guessed, at least—if he had only held onto his previous belief that Yixing wanted his choking hands, his erected dick, his fucked up friendship, and his textbooks exclusively. While he had never denied to himself or to others that they were actually friends, even closer than most given the short period of time they had spent together, the thought of Yixing actually seeing him as something more had not until recently been on his radar. He _knew_ that it would have been easier by great measure if Yixing had not spilt tears on that day, but he also _knew_ that his own mind had been made up.

 

The only thing he could thus do now was to smile back at Baekhyun as though he actually believed that all would end up alright, despite the pain. That, and deciding yet another thing—it would be stupid, if anything, to hold grudges towards Baekhyun when he was one of one of the few who knew and the only one, if possible, who held potential to understand. Sehun didn’t know how Baekhyun felt about his so-called boyfriend holding onto Yixing, so who was he to blame him for anything or to be annoyed with him for ludicrous reasons?

 

So much had happened in less than two days and even more had Sehun come to understand. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, in the end, was what he concluded later that night as he buried himself beneath the covers next to Jongin who was clearly awake, yet refraining from asking. If anything, it was everyone’s fault, and the best thing to do when all came around was just let go of it all and never look back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, hope you guys still like this, and as always please tell me what you think—comments always bring me a step forward, especially now as I've been in a terrible writer's block for months. And thank you for almost 100 kudos ♡


	19. Chapter 19

It had never been hard for Yixing admit—to himself, at least—that he was in love with Sehun. Self-control had never been a virtue of his, though, and neither had he been blessed with the ability to cope with disappointment or to solve his issues with adequate finesse. Maybe was that why he enjoyed the pain, the burns caused by cigarettes and the feeling of someone ripping him open; perhaps his inability to accept the fact that life doesn’t always work out in your favour was the reason for why he never stopped searching for something with which to fill the empty void, be it a dick up his ass or pushed down his throat or ruthless hands wrapped firmly around his throat.

 

“ _Why would I be in love with you?”_

 

The echoes remained, Sehun’s words reverberating through his mind until those recollections got too much and he screamed right out in utter frustration. He hadn’t been able to fully believe it, had been stuck in a cycle of constantly veering between pathetic hopefulness and exaggerated torment. For months had he thought that Sehun had felt it—something more, perhaps even something silly like love—since he despite having kissed Luhan on that night always gazed down at his precious little exchange student with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. Yixing had felt unusually warm during these few turbulent months that had passed, but the sensation was cooling significantly now as he found himself stuffed with three strangers’ cocks at once.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut as his lower back cracked and gagged on the seventh, maybe eighth load of cum. No sensational release for him came, though, not even when he got pulled back roughly by his hair and thrust into deeply by these men who had drugged him.

 

Of course it wasn’t true he had never felt loved, and these years spent with Luhan had been ones filled with joy—debatable joy mixed with pain, true, but joy nonetheless with all else subtracted. There was something quite special, however, about feeling loved by someone who to you were more than just a childhood friend, a person for whom you would change your ways if asked to or simply being given the opportunity.

 

This was what Yixing finally realised, in his all too foggy mind recalling the nights spent with his new friend Sehun and with Luhan respectively. While there had been a time—not long ago—during which the latter had been just a little bit more, Yixing’s love had transformed into a fear of losing his very best friend, his _brother_ , in the end. If Yixing and Luhan were to break up because of both of their lack of sexual fidelity, who was to say that their friendship would last?

 

Then again, though, if he was to be honest, did he value his relationship with Sehun as well. What made things different this time he didn’t know, just as he couldn’t explain the anguish given birth to by the mere thought of confessing his love. While he _knew_ deep inside that he would give up everything—the self-chosen pain brought by hands around his neck, the sick satisfaction of getting fucked by some stranger—his body betrayed him whenever faced with temptations. Few people changed—that was his motto—and he would never live to see himself become an exception.

 

Just as expected, as the proved prostitute of pain that he was, he chose to handle this arduous situation by complementing his sessions with Sehun with sporadic yet too many visits to the alleys. There, by the counter of some shady bar, he would without any shame act shy with the most vulgar of strangers, the oldest of men who put powder in his drinks in order to get into the pants of some lost, young boy. Stumbling there broken, already ripped open, he would wait for the date rape drugs to kick in while praying that whatever would happen would hurt, that those nasty old men would fill him enough to consign the worries about his love life to oblivion. Hookups and pain were his drugs, after all, and although a part of him was longing for sobriety, recurring disappointment entailed violent relapses.

 

It could go on hours and the pain never left, not when next morning was spent with Luhan, the lunch break with some lecturer, and the evenings with Sehun. The latter had actually come to be the roughest, at last, in spite of having acted so reluctant to hurt him and regardless of his otherwise gentle demeanour. Sehun was—aside from those strangers—the most violent of them all for that was his task, given by Yixing who always got what he wanted. Yet, he followed the choking up with something entirely else, some kind of love in his gaze which was completely indisputable and didn’t go unnoticed whenever he brought Yixing into his arms with a sigh, bringing him down safely from the high of some ruined orgasm. One would have been stupid to deny that it was real, that the way he still cared about Yixing wasn’t an act, but the latter’s hope was fading along with whatever was left of his own questionable sanity. How come Sehun did suddenly so easily agree to not only choke him but hit him as well, leaving bruises on not only his neck but everywhere? Yixing didn’t know, and he feared to find out.

 

“ _You’re not… Wait, you’re not..?_ ”

 

He recalled his own revealing response at the back of his mind which was clouded by rohypnol, not caring to stifle the sobs and the cries when his overflowing hole got pushed into again. Never before had he sought to get raped by someone with whom it wasn’t an act, but to find that it all felt the same in the end, the pain just as trivial yet pleasurable as always, was a pleasant surprise when all came around. Yet, he couldn’t let go of the worries, the memory of his own treacherous tears.

 

He gazed up on his rapists with glistening eyes and kept taking it all like the cheap, nasty whore which he had always been and would remain forever.

 

Blood began to seep from his ass when what could have been the tenth stranger pulled out only for another to enter, and as he got spat on and thrown between bodies, he gave up in his half-hearted attempts to stay conscious. Dreaming of rooftops and Sehun’s broad chest, of Luhan pulling him into a hug from behind, he unwittingly let the saddest of smiles grace his lips that were swollen and cracked, all whilst those strangers kept abusing his body.

 

“ _Of course you’re not in love with me,_ ” was a constant melody on top of crackling free jazz played backwards in repetition. “ _That’d be weird, wouldn’t it?_ ” his dream-self recited, but he shook his head violently, unwilling to admit it.

 

"No."

 

It wouldn’t be weird of Sehun to love him, and Yixing was foolish enough to not surrender.

 

 

-

 

 

Apparently, Luhan had broken up with Baekhyun who sternly refused to have any of it. Sehun had not paid much attention to the details when Jongin had in all desperation called him about it, forcing his roommate to leave the library for once in order to come back home and help him stop a war.

 

Their kitchen had for some strange reason or another turned into three of their friends’ personal battlefield, with Chanyeol and Luhan swinging at each other whilst Baekhyun stood spitting out the vilest of profanities. Fists were bloody, as were lips, and be it not for that Sehun had walked in just as a few ribs were about to get broken had their microwave and table been nothing but memories. He did—quite ironically–not like the idea of his and Jongin’s home getting wrecked because of some ridiculous love triangle between those others, thus did he swallow the urge to turn back, to call Yixing who had been gone overnight and use his own frustration and anger as fuel while fucking the masochist into deep, dreamless sleep.

 

He couldn’t care any less about their drama, yet he did after just a few hectic seconds find himself restraining a furious Luhan who was dangerously close to breaking their furniture. Baekhyun had screamed at the latter for leaving him, followed by Chanyeol grabbing Baekhyun in jealousy, and the pushing and name-calling had resulted in this puerile yet very much violent fight where the latter’s two boyfriends were intending to maim. It was all a mess but did, unsurprisingly, end with Sehun straddling Luhan on the floor since the crazy exchange student had lost his shit when held back.

 

Sehun might have opted for peace but his hatred towards Luhan did, as expected, get the best of him as soon as his skin touched the other’s.

 

“I don’t remember inviting _you_ to our home–” he hissed whilst the others now stood watching, shocked. Having found Luhan in his own very flat had been bad enough to make him annoyed, but hearing Yixing’s best friend shout curses in a place which was so often filled with silence had brought out some great, unyielding rage.

 

Luhan wasn’t late to press a palm against his face, though, like the fighter he was refusing to give up.

 

“I don’t give a shit about you say so fuck you, brat, I go where I please–”

 

By some unholy miracle managing to avert it, Sehun got a death grip of the other’s lean biceps and let his own heavy ass push down between hip bones. Completely ignoring the protests uttered by Baekhyun who suddenly sounded close to tears, he made sure that back of Luhan’s pretty little head got slammed against the floor hard enough to cause concussions. Pathetic whimpers were what he earned in response then, and half-lidded eyes gazing up at him, bloodshot.

 

It wasn't with pride that he admitted to himself that it felt quite good—breaking this idiot—especially not as he suddenly realised that the scene felt much like one from last morning in which he had fucked Yixing in a most violent manner. Too rough had it been and Yixing had cried, his cheek pressed hard against the cold, wet floor in one of the university’s bathroom stalls. Shy, gentle pecks on a black and blue neck had however followed that impromptu session, as had hugs and the silliest of jokes, and no great harm seemed to have followed since Yixing had spent the remains of the day smiling.

 

Sehun still shuddered, though, ashamed of himself, but made no attempt to stop assaulting Luhan.

 

“I’ve got lots and lots to pay you back for, _Lulu,_ ” he spat whilst keeping Luhan in place against the floor, fending every counter attack off by letting his entire weight get supported by the other’s suddenly fragile-looking shoulders. The situation was dangerous and getting out of hand, but while Jongin whined in a half-hearted effort to stop his roommate from committing a murder, his stuttered words were left uncared for.

 

“Guys, s–stop… g–guys, please…”

 

He might have called his roommate over to help stop a fight—not to _fight_ —but never would Sehun forget having been kicked on by Luhan, beaten not only once but twice because of the latter’s stupidity and excessive jealousy. Cries of pain that weren't his own now drowned out the sound of Baekhyun’s sobs and Chanyeol’s snickers, but truth was—if one asked Sehun—that he wouldn’t have gone this far be it not for Luhan still trying to break free.

 

“You're just a pathetic little bitch, Lulu,” he wheezed between his teeth, trying hard to stay on top as the one beneath him writhed and kept kicking, “and if you seriously think that you’re the only one who can hurt people then you're wrong.”

 

Luhan whimpered in between the coughs that followed each concussion caused by getting slammed against the floor. With eyes clouded and a burgeoning nosebleed, he did his best to try to squirm his way out only to again and again find his struggles useless. His tenacity never died though, and neither did his voice.

 

“Y–you hurt Yixing all the t–time, you–”

 

Sehun rewarded him with a failure of a slap, some small, hidden part of himself still reluctant to cause harm. He didn't want to hear it, didn't want any reminders, but was most importantly scared to let the others find out that he and Yixing weren't just fucking but on top of that engaging in some fucked up rape play. Hell, Jongin didn’t even know that they were fucking at all and that alone was reason enough for Sehun to let his inhibitions go and once again let Luhan’s face taste his palm, although this time harder and without holding back.

 

“Shut up!” He shouted at the one beneath him whose coughs and whimpers started sounding awfully annoying. “You don’t know anything! You–”

 

“Y–you started hitting him, d–didn’t you, Sehun? You–” Luhan spat blood straight onto his face as that was, at this point, the only possible way to fight back. “I s–saw his bruises and he t–told me you agreed to it, h–he–”

 

Sehun’s phone buzzed on a sudden but the sound of the ringtone he had set for Yixing didn’t reach him at all in that moment of rage. All he could hear as he started choking Luhan for saying those words and having coerced him into fucking on that horrible night was his own raging tinnitus and the strangled noises, the floorboards creaking when he lifted Luhan by the neck only to slam him back down with way too much force.

 

He hated this person for everything but one exception, that being caring their precious Yixing. He hated Luhan for simply existing, hated him endlessly for having felt so good. He hated the fact that he appeared at times, in Sehun’s head forcing him to relive the moment they had locked lips and those times they had fucked, hated him for giving him a reason not to hate him.

 

“ _Don't struggle, goddamnit–_ ” he let out consequently, nearly whining, imitating those words that had been hissed by Luhan while the latter had fucked him without explicit permission. His fingers were squeezing harder by the second, the exchange student’s face growing paler as he did, and not until Luhan stopped squirming altogether did Sehun notice his own raging hard on. Before he could even fathom what was happening, though, or register the flame lit in Luhan’s suddenly wide open eyes, he found himself pushed aside by his roommate who had finally decided to intervene.

 

“STOP!”

 

Jongin was panting, grabbing onto Sehun with something like panic slowly leaving his gaze. To end up having to testify in court against a murderer who happened to be his best friend wasn't that tempting, as wasn't having to drag Luhan’s lifeless, strangled body to the morgue.

 

“Stop, just… Stop it, Sehun.”

 

Everything seemed just a little bit different, for in the corner of the room, just where Baekhyun had stood crying, was now nothing at all, only the lack of two people.

 

“They left,” Jongin explained with a sigh, breathless and with his fingers clutching Sehun’s shirt which had ripped at some point during the fight. “Chanyeol and Baekhyun left. They got tired of your shit so whatever it is you two are fighting over, you can bring it somewhere else now.”

 

Silence ensued save for Luhan continuing to cough and spit blood, and Sehun leant back against his roommate’s stiff chest, his own limbs suddenly heavy and weary. Inhaling deeply, Jongin kept speaking, the coldness of his voice hinting at annoyance and a will to let this night just be over and done with.

 

“Luhan, you should leave. Sehun, let's–”

 

A loud snort still managed to slip through in between those violent coughs, the assaulted exchange student remaining grounded on the floor. Dizzy and probably to hurt to rise, he scoffed where he lay messaging his own neck with hands that were as shaky as Sehun's fingers.

 

“Oh, I’ll leave alright, just give me a moment,” he deadpanned, unamused. “Our _friend_ Sehun here just granted me another visit to the hospital, unless you didn't notice.”

 

Rivulets of blood started running from his nostrils as he heaved himself up only to fall back down, the bright red liquid wetting his collar and gathering in the corners of his all too pale lips. It was quite a sad sight when all came around and Sehun had to admit to himself, as much as his insides were still turning and boiling, that it all gave birth to a sense of shame. Be that as it may, though, his irritation didn't die.

 

“If you’re gonna fight with your boyfriend’s fucktoy, choose another place,” he murmured as though he hadn’t, too, started swinging because of _reasons_. “I don't care about your drama and neither does Jongin, so don't ever show your face here again–”

 

Luhan snapped then, his voice nearly cracking as he spat out syllables like some drunk on a poetry slam.

 

“I didn’t come here to fight, you idiot! Don't you get it? I came to see _you_!” Sehun stared as the other kept shouting, the latter’s gaze holding his own with some kind of newborn desperation which was to Sehun unfamiliar. “Baek and Chanyeol were already here! And I… I was just… I just wanted…” Luhan paused, suddenly trembling. “I… I don’t know what… I just…”

 

The room grew quiet, Sehun kept staring, unable to decipher the look on that face which he had never seem wrapped in such… doubt, perhaps sadness? It was eerie, to say the least, but it wasn't the ambiguity of Luhan’s conduct that had his stomach act up, but his own sudden pity and shame.

 

Jongin spoke up, though, fed up with this awkwardness.

 

“He’s right,” he said, pulling his roommate to stand up straight before tossing some tissues at Luhan whose nosebleed had stopped. ”I invited them over to hang out since you're never here anymore, but then Luhan showed up, and they… Well, Chanyeol, you know…” He paused for a second, but it wasn't with mirth that he let out a laugh. “Chanyeol hasn't been in his right mind lately. I honestly think you know more about this than I do, though. I don't know shit anymore because everyone keeps leaving me out, and that includes you too, Sehun! Sometimes I wonder if we’re even friends anymore, seeing as you’d rather spend every night in Yixing’s bed than ours!”

 

Not even Luhan snickered after that.

 

“I know you have secrets, Sehun, all of us do. But please. Just please. I’m your best friend, right?” Jongin’s voice grew weaker by the second, his eyes tearing up at the sight of his roommate, “...right, Hunnie? I’m your best friend, right?”

 

Sehun came to regret so much in that moment.

 

He shouldn’t have caused this scene in their home, shouldn’t have slammed Luhan against the floor. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt bad towards the latter who now lowered his head as if ashamed himself, but none of that could compare to the pain of hearing those words pronounced by his friend. Never had Sehun even entertained the thought of Jongin, too, suffering because of this, and now as the realisation hit him at last, it hit him hard enough to leave him tongue tied.

 

He waited too long, for as he opened his mouth, his best friend had already scurried away with tears of neglect streaming down his cheeks.

 

Sehun swallowed, trying not to cry.

 

 

 

 

 

_later_

 

Luhan had reluctantly agreed to some coffee at which he now, however, was only staring blankly. Half an hour, maybe more had passed with neither him or Sehun saying anything at all, but the latter had at least been granted permission to dab Luhan’s bruises with ice to soothe the pain.

 

He couldn’t explain the true reason behind his own actions, but told himself—lying—that it was politeness solely.

 

“You said you wanted to talk,” was with which he eventually broke the uncomfortable silence, trying to sound nonchalant but his voice still betraying him. “Let’s talk then.”

 

It didn’t work. Only snorting in response, Luhan did in spite of his lingering dizziness shoot up on a sudden, on his still stumbling feet making way towards the door as though he hadn’t, in fact, came there to talk. Sehun, however, copied his movements and grabbed his wrist in an unexpected fit, in some inexplicable impulse pulling him closer.

 

“Wha–”

 

The hug was stiff and colder than ice, and Luhan’s hair smelled too much like Yixing’s.

 

“I said talk.”

 

Luhan actually accepted the touch instead of hitting Sehun right in the face. It would have been so ridiculously easy to do so, to continue the fight they had let happen earlier, yet did he stand there trapped in that embrace which should have felt like just an obligatory apology.

 

“I don’t wanna do this anymore,” he murmured bitterly, both of his hands awkwardly splayed across Sehun’s lower back, travelling upwards. “But that doesn't mean I’ll stop.”

 

He paused at his nape and pulled him a bit closer. His breath wasn’t nearly as hot as Yixing’s but his scent was the same, too much the same, and as he remained there quiet for too long, Sehun wondered why his own shirt had gone wet.

 

The latter wanted to come to an agreement but found himself hit by a wave of new feelings; in spite of knowing that Yixing would leave, a part of him wished for them all to get along, for himself and Luhan to forgive each other, not necessarily becoming _friends_ but at least… something else. He hated him, sure—it would have been foolish to deny it—but was so, so tired of jealousy and of grudges.

 

Luhan broke free after minutes of silence and hurried out quickly with but a “goodbye”, his face hidden well behind trembling palms from which something was dripping, probably tears.

 

Sehun didn’t know what to think.

 

Seating himself down, more confused than ever, he had a sip of the exchange student’s untouched coffee whilst trying to block out the sound of Jongin snivelling in the bathroom. Luhan’s scent lingered, reminding him of Yixing, and he opened the window to wash it all out.

 

It didn’t work.

 

 

-

 

 

A week had passed, give or take a few days, since Sehun had collapsed on his bed next to Jongin to whom he had whispered heartfelt apologies. Few other words had been exchanged, though, between himself and his roommate whose disappointment in his friend had seemed mixed up with pity, and be it not for the arms around him, Jongin lulling him to sleep with a hug, had Sehun probably thrown up in self-loathing.

 

He had for months now wanted Luhan dead or at least for him to end up in a vegetative state, but recalling the feeling of his own hands around that neck wasn’t quite like he had imagined it before. It didn’t help that Luhan had noticed it, the way Sehun’s body had responded with arousal, as did not the cryptic text which had been sent the morning following the fight, the awkward hug, and Luhan’s tears.

 

[08:57, Lulu]  _if you wanna ruin me, go ahead. i’m waiting._

 

Now shuddering, not knowing what to do, Sehun faced another worry of his.

 

“When are you leaving?”

 

He had just left new trails of bruises and found himself on the rooftop again, cursing the stars for looking down in spite and for judging him for repeatedly giving in to sadism. Following his question up with a sigh, he gazed down at Yixing who was resting heavily against him, the latter’s breathing ragged, his every limb aching.

 

“Soon,” Yixing responded with a sad little gasp as though weeks of daily choking and beating had finally caught up with his physical endurance. “A month.”

 

It was accompanied by a smile looking anything but real and as he pulled himself closer to Sehun, the latter wondered if he had believed it all.

 

“I see.”

 

Maybe Yixing had seen through his lie, knowing perfectly well that they both felt the same, or maybe his infatuation was—just like Sehun’s—so deeply rooted that he just couldn’t bring himself to walk away now. Sehun, of course, didn’t care about which; all he really wanted at this desperate point was for these fleeting moments in which they weren’t fucking to last just a little bit longer than reality allowed. He didn’t want Yixing to leave, yet he wanted it over and done with. He didn’t want Luhan to exist at all whilst parts of himself were suddenly contradicting his own reason, his fingers having tapped a rude response only to delete it all over and over again. As a matter of fact, he wanted a lot of things, but Yixing beside him was all he needed right now.

 

Moments followed, filled with silence, in which Sehun’s thoughts began to wander aimlessly only to once again pause at Luhan and linger too long without permission. He had since last week asked himself countless times just why he had pulled that brute into a hug, wondering _why_ he had remained in that embrace with Luhan and _why_ the latter had cried into his chest. No satisfactory explanation had come, though, not even an excuse as to why he felt bad.

 

“Sehun, can I ask you something?”

 

The click of a lighter marked the sudden question and Yixing waved the fire around, heaving himself up on a fractured elbow but only to in order to snuggle even closer. Bringing the slowly burning flame to his lips, he opened his mouth and let his tongue and taste that heat, for only a fraction of second wincing by the pain brought by fire marking the inside of his mouth. He didn’t know what had happened last week, hadn’t seen the text sent by his friend, and Sehun didn’t know what would happen if he did.

 

The latter shuddered at the smell of gas, hoping that the fumes would bring some sort of high and make him forget about Luhan altogether.

 

He sighed.

 

“Go ahead, ask.”

 

He never knew what to expect anymore but little did it matter at this hopeless point. Be it a silly question about the essence of existence or a demanding inquiry on what Sehun really felt; the latter knew that there would be no point in the answer, no easy quick fix to any of their problems. Yet, what came caught him off guard.

 

“Why do you favour suicide so much?”

 

Yixing peeked up through his cum-stained fringe, now just as always caring nought about washing. It was frozen now, those remains of Sehun, and his fingers felt cold beneath the latter’s shirt.

 

Sehun blinked, not knowing what to say.

 

“Why do I… What?”

 

“Why do you want to kill yourself?”

 

Yixing had always wondered strange things, but be that as it may, Sehun still reacted with surprise. Never had the latter expressed such things, that being insinuations of wanting to die, and thus did he raise an eyebrow in response before denying the suicidality which to him didn't exist.

 

“I don’t. I don't wanna die.”

 

He was a fool.

 

“I know you do.” Yixing wrapped his arms around him just like Jongin had done last week. With his breath hot and humid against skin, he let his crystallized tendrils of hair tickle the junction between Sehun’s jaw line and prickling neck. “If you didn't, then you wouldn’t be looking so sad all the time. I might be stupid—no, I am, listen to me—but I know some things, at least. You're sad, Sehun. I can see it in your eyes.”

 

Who had suddenly taken over that body, replaced the childish, naive little Xing to whom—Sehun thought—the world seemed so simple? Perhaps it was just that the latter had failed to during these months recognise that he, too, was being scrutinized, that Yixing did in spite of his own pain worry about the well-being of his precious friend.

 

“So tell me,” he continued when there came no response, his voice sounding much more mature than usual and his fingernails scratching circles on Sehun’s tense stomach. “Why do you want to die?”

 

Sehun nearly pouted, refusing to understand what this was all about.

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

It wasn’t that he specifically _wanted_ to die—he just didn’t care about the inevitability of death or the prospects of passing away too early due to sickness or an accident or the slip of his own hand. He was, after all, just like everyone else, but biological matter spinning senselessly on a rock in some corner of an indifferent universe. There’s no roadmap, he knew, and no bigger point, nothing great awaiting him in the future. Yixing’s reasoning was, however, laughably absurd and expectedly simple—looking _sad_ in one’s eyes doesn't equal suicidality, and Yixing did furthermore know nothing at all about just what went on behind Sehun’s frontal.

 

He didn't explain why he had uttered that question but proceeded with an entirely different tone of voice as Sehun showed no willingness to reveal his own misery.

 

“Whatever then. What I mean is,” he said, his palms now flat against Sehun’s chest beneath all those blankets and that all too thin shirt. “Doesn't cessation of existence simply eliminate the Absurd? If so, you wouldn't actually confront it by killing yourself.” Sehun just stared, automatically preparing for a heated discussion. “I’m just saying that you wouldn't really solve the problem of the Absurd by ending your life.”

 

Yixing had a point, but that wasn’t the _point_.

 

“I guess, but,” Sehun sat up and thus sacrificed the other’s warmth for the sake of proper eye contact, “the point of absurdism is the imbalance between man’s never-ending attempts to seek meaning and his inability to do so. Then,” Yixing opened his mouth to protest but Sehun pressed a finger against his lips, for only a moment revelling in the plumpness beneath those many layers of hard, dried skin. “ _Then_ , it wouldn't really matter if I chose to kill myself or not, because what’s the point of actively trying to confront the Absurd, really? I’m not interested in being Camus’ so-called _hero_ , so if I wanna kill myself, I’ll do so without shame. It's none of his business, and neither is it yours.”

 

Yixing pouted.

 

“You’re a meanie.”

 

Sehun smiled.

 

“I’m just trying to remain reasonable, Xing,” he continued, proud to have won this useless argument and secretly rejoicing this welcome disruption to mundane problems such as love triangles and sex. “I’m a student of philosophy and so are you, so we shouldn’t let ourselves get lost in sentimentality or whatever.”

 

Yixing, on the other hand, started muttering something foreign as he crawled on top of Sehun on a sudden, nuzzling into his neck with a shaky sigh.

 

“Well, I don't want you to kill yourself.” Butterfly kisses were left there unintentionally and as he kept murmuring, his voice grew less steady. “Because if we really are capable of creating our meaning, then I might as well say that you are mine.”

 

Sehun froze with his arms around the other, his own face heating up by the mere sound of that statement.

 

“That I’m your… what?”

 

He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it, yet he did nothing to stop it from happening.

 

“My meaning of life.” Yixing’s lips were wet against his neck, those scrawny, burned fingers clutching the hem of his shirt in desperation. Hiding his face as if embarrassed or something else, Yixing kept breathing out stuttered words in an immediate excuse which did nothing to save him. “Not that you are, I’m just saying that you could be. Theoretically.”

 

Sehun noticed it—the bitterness, the fear—and remembered how he himself had denied something similar. Letting himself caress the other, for only a precious moment pulling him closer than necessary, he placed a peck on the top Yixing’s head before increasing the distance between them just a bit.

 

“Well, I can't be,” he laughed, feeling something inside of him break once again as he looked down only to be met with a pair of pleading eyes. “That would be ridiculous.”

 

Deep inside, he wished that it was possible to find inherent meaning in the form of another person. Perhaps that was the true way in which Yixing had changed him, Yixing who now hummed detachedly in response.

 

There was disappointment in his voice, a kind which wouldn't die.

 

“Yeah, it would. Everything's pointless, anyway.” The temperature seemed to drop when he removed himself entirely, letting the blankets fall from his shivering shoulders as he rose to his feet to walk back inside. “Maybe you're right, after all, Sehun. Maybe we should all just end our own lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from hiatus for now.


	20. Chapter 20

Yixing’s mood had dropped significantly because of one silly quarrel about meaning, and now as they entered his flat together, he refused to talk or even acknowledge Sehun. It wasn’t even late—only minutes past midnight—yet did he lumber straight to the bed and buried himself beneath the cum-stained duvet. He didn't ask to be beaten or strangled, didn't beg to get fucked against the wall or to choke on Sehun’s dick or fingers; all he did was lie there, sulking, hugging himself tightly with his own bruised arms in spite of Sehun being just within reach.

 

There came no explanation to his sudden silence save for a few quietly murmured words, the bitter sentences breathed into the sheets instead of hissed or whispered into his fuckbuddy’s ear.

 

“You know what I feel, and I know you feel the same.” He left room for an answer but there came none, and he sighed. “You’re too negative, Sehun, and it's killing us, isn't it?”

 

Sehun knew that those words were true but he stood true to his motto and the promise to himself—positivity entails only huge disappointments, thus would he keep denying his feelings in spite of them both being perfectly aware now. A month was all that was left of their time and so would it bring only pain to try, to at this point initiate something more than just _this_.

 

It hurt, of course, to watch Yixing turn away that night, and the lack of limbs entwining with his own him had him wonder how to deal with what would happen too soon. Jongin’s arms were warm as well, of course, but they weren’t as soft or as clingy as Yixing’s, and although their bed smelled like home and not cum, it lacked the scent of some adorable exchange student. Sehun had a friend who had always been precious but their love wasn’t one of romantic character, so how he would cope with the void left behind by Yixing was a question worth dealing with before it happened.

 

He didn't, however, and that was his problem; always denying, always postponing, avoiding the realisation of that each solution was either undesirable or impossible.

 

That night was filled with silence instead of moans and as it turned into a busy morning full of lectures and information on end-of-term exams, Sehun and Yixing went separate ways. Days passed by without any calls, not even texts to make up for the lack of company, and although their courses should have kept them distracted, it was hard to ignore that something felt amiss. Sehun did still steal glances at Yixing who returned them sadly while in the arms of Luhan, and the latter went back to his arrogant self who would smirk whilst pulling his best friend closer. They had hit a new low and they knew exactly why, now as their feelings lay bare yet unspoken.

 

Sehun wondered if it was all for the better, but that didn’t stop him from breaking apart. He was longing for contact, for hugs and for warmth, but also for orgasms and a way to forget that he had fallen in love with someone who would leave. Excuses to not waste time on fucking were good when the excuses were upcoming exams, but as he found himself alone in the library after hours of studying for some web-based course, a dangerous thought was born in mind—if Yixing could deal with the struggles of life by letting himself get fucked without mercy, what stopped Sehun from doing the same?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Finding Luhan’s address wasn’t hard, as wasn’t storming inside impolitely as soon as the door swung open in front of him. Convincing himself that he wanted this was, however, much more difficult than ignoring Luhan’s dumbfounded flatmates.

 

“What do you want?” was the question muttered coldly when he found himself blocked by an equally confused, pyjama-clad Luhan, and although the latter looked annoyed beyond measure, there was curiosity there, a hint of a sneer.

 

Sehun just wanted this over and done with and to see if this self-destructive method would work. Instead of fucking Yixing senseless like always, instead of strangling the one he would have to forget, he wanted to get ruined and to let go of his worries about silly heartache and impending loneliness.

 

“Fuck me,” he said, leaving room for no games, and Luhan didn’t hesitate to do him that favour and to never mention the event again.

 

Perhaps Sehun had actually managed to adopt those masochistic tendencies which he had deep inside been longing for lately.

 

 

 

 

 

  
  


 

Important exams were approaching slowly and Sehun tried to ignore the memory of Luhan fucking him for hours without pauses. The taste of blood still stung his tongue whenever he shut his eyes, however, constantly haunted by recollections of his own face getting pressed against the floor until his cheekbones were swollen, shiny and tears-stained and Luhan’s roommate—Yifan—walking in only to sigh and exit the room in silence. It became harder and harder to forget the reason for why he had sought out Luhan, of all people, only to kneel and let him destroy him, to in his mind drown out the sound of his own voice breaking as he got taken raw without lube or protection.

 

He went out drinking a few nights later and crawled back home after getting fucked by strangers. With his asshole ripped and leaking cum onto the mattress right next to Jongin who was sound asleep, he shed silent tears into pillow whilst shaking, knowing perfectly well that he could have called Yixing. He was losing control, though, not knowing what to do in spite of himself shouting “Yixing! Yixing! Yixing!” in his mind at a volume so loud that his tinnitus faded. He knew what he wanted but that wish was impossible, for the term was but a few weeks from ending and Yixing would leave him and never return.

 

He already missed him, so, so much.

 

 

 

–

  
  


 

”I don’t get it, Xing.”

 

Yixing raised two questioning eyebrows at Luhan who sat staring instead of studying as planned. It could have been hours that had passed since it started, hours of Luhan searching for an answer, to find in Yixing’s stoic face even a single clue as to why their love had always been destructively problematic.

 

No response whatsoever was provided, though, as Yixing kept reading beside him on the sofa, quietly acting as if though the textbook in his lap was more important than his best friend trying so desperately to figure it all out. Exams were nearing—Luhan knew this, of course—but the end of term did also bring with it the urgency of convincing his childhood friend that he was better than Sehun, more precious, more _needed_.

 

”Why are you ignoring me?” was the second question left uncared for, leaving silence to reign as it had the whole day.

 

Luhan sighed.

 

Too much had been going on in his head for these past days, ever since Sehun had stepped into his flat only to basically beg to get fucked without any apparent reason. It had caught Luhan off-guard, of course, had surprised him and disgusted him but left him curious. Perhaps there was something happening between Sehun and Yixing since the latter had lately not been as busy as usual, since Yixing had spent his nights at Luhan’s instead of spreading his legs wide open for Sehun or for his landlord, some neighbour, or for sadists from online. _Maybe_ their relationship—whatever that was—was breaking apart right in front Luhan’s own eyes, crumbling into pieces and having Sehun do it, _it_ being sleeping with someone else than Yixing. Not that the latter did so all the time, but Luhan had guessed that Sehun, at least, had been… loyal, in spite of probably knowing already that “fidelity” wasn’t in Yixing’s vocabulary.

 

Luhan really wondered what had happened but not enough to end up asking. Instead of trying to figure _that_ out, he kept his gaze fixed on Yixing who sat still, reading but not really, with his eyebrows knitted.

 

“Xing.” He watched the expression grow less patient and more annoyed, noticed how his friend started clutching his book with fingers that were paling and covered in burns. “Yixing,” he kept grumbling, waiting for a reaction, starting to poke the other’s dimple too hard and repeatedly and without consideration.

 

“Xing, Xing, Xing. Earth to Yixing who doesn’t love his best friend. Why don’t you do that? I know you can hear me, Yixing. I know you love me, Xing, you tell me that all the time. Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing, Yixing. Why do you seek me out only when you’re grumpy? Why are you choosing that brat over me?”

 

He kept poking, following steadily whenever Yixing leant back with his face growing red. Stopping only when Yifan walked in and sent them a scowl as if to warn them not to fight, Luhan pouted in lieu of protesting until his roommate had finished whatever he was doing and gone out the door, leaving the unhappy couple alone to argue.

 

Luhan sighed again, defeated as always.

 

“I’m serious, Xing, I love you. You know that.”

 

Countless times had he said it already since desperation had replaced his previous stubbornness. He had told Yixing just how he felt, had nearly fallen to his knees in unveiled despair when there had come no answer to his repeated questions. It didn’t matter that Yixing already knew, not when Luhan feared that his friend might stay behind instead of leave in spite of lack of money and the importance of education. He was scared for his friend, that he would start selling his body or end up broke just to be with some brat that would leave him in the end, just like everyone else, but most of all was Luhan scared for his own broken heart and to be left all alone.

 

“Why can’t we be together?” was the last thing he uttered, the words now whispered and his voice drained of strength before Yixing finally shot up from the sofa with a prolonged groan that nearly had the walls around them quake.

 

“ _Because we’re brothers, goddamnit!_ ” the latter exclaimed with a broken pitch, luckily throwing his textbook across the room instead of right at Luhan who now sat frozen, staring. “That's why!” he continued with a frantic expression, “I love you, idiot, but I can’t! I just can’t! I’m scared! I can’t!”

 

Silence returned, broken only by a shaky whisper exhaled by Luhan after seconds of recalling their turbulent childhood.

 

“That wasn't real,” he claimed, suddenly nostalgic, yet also disturbed by the now disclosed fact that Yixing was still, even ten years later, holding onto those times of play and pretend.

 

It took hardly a few moments for the latter to start crying, for his breathing to turn heavy at the sound of that statement and for his limbs to start shaking like those of a condemned.

 

“YES! YES, IT _WAS!_ ” he screamed as if in agony, looking ready to grant his friend with a blow in spite of having hurt him only one time before. “You told me it was true! You told me that we were, that we’d always been brothers! You told me that our parents–”

 

“I lied, Xing, you–”

 

“YOU TOLD ME IT WAS TRUE!”

 

The white of his eyes had nearly turned red even before his screams transformed into coughs, and as his knees hit the floor with a thump, the collar of his shirt was already drenched.

 

“You t–told me, y–you…” His words were but noises, stutters and sobs spilt from tear-swollen lips that had so many times locked with those of his “brother”. “It w–was… y–you promised…” faded into nothing, his face now speckled red by petechiae and hidden behind palms that wouldn’t stop shaking.

 

Luhan shook his head with a sigh, refusing to spill any tears of his own because of childish nonsense that should have stopped long ago. It didn’t matter how it stung his heart to remember those times that were much easier, yet harder, didn’t matter that Yixing’s reason was one that could perhaps be easily overcome; seated on the sofa whilst listening to those snivels, the remains of their childhood seeping through the cracks, Luhan _realised_ that nothing was easy, that not even he could fix Yixing.

 

He didn’t have time to come up with a response, with anything at all to put a stop to this nonsense. Rising from his seat only find Yixing crawl away then, Luhan sighed once again at the sight. He didn’t stop it, didn’t know what to say, whether to run after his friend who now stumbled to his feet or to wait for this irresolvable situation to be solved by itself. Instead of doing anything at all, he only watched in silence as Yixing disappeared, as his very best friend whom he loved so, so much darted out of the flat without shoes and slammed the front door shut with a bang that had during these past months turned way too familiar.

 

A framed picture of them all fell off the wall just as tears started dripping from Luhan’s own chin.

 

It was true, in a way, Yixing’s reason.

 

 

 

–

 

 

 

Sehun’s phone buzzed on the bedstand.

 

“Aren’t you gonna check that?”

 

He sighed at the question and glared down at Jongin who lay sprawled out with him across their bed. It was comfortable this way, more comfortable than ever, and Sehun wasn’t in the mood for anything else than quiet reading and ploughing through notes. He didn’t want to open the message, didn’t want to look at the sender because even though he missed Yixing a lot, he was tired, so tired, and furthermore too busy to suffer. Too exhausted to face reality, to find out if it was Yixing or Luhan who had texted—he needed to rest both body and mind and was in addition to that aware of the fact that he had fallen for temptations way too easily lately. His asshole still hurt after several hookups and a constant hangover had haunted him for days due to frequent visits to some bar down the street, so any messages—be them from Yixing or not—were acutely unwelcome in light of the situation.

 

Jongin, however, sighed even louder than one who refused to solve his own problems.

 

“If you’re not gonna check it then I’ll check it for you.”

 

He began to climb over his roommate’s body but before he had time to reach the phone, Sehun jolted up in a rush and snatched it away as though scared to reveal it lest he would actually die. He didn’t know what the content would be so to read it himself despite not wanting to was, in the end, preferable to risk exposure. Letting Jongin see something possibly inappropriate or even explicitly sexual was, after all, not desirable, thus did Sehun just crawl back into bed while opening the message, keeping it well out of sight.

 

“What does it say?” Jongin, of course, was as already revealed not happy with the amount of secrets held lately. “Who is it?” he kept inquiring, clearly impatient, but pouted and muttered when his questions remained unanswered.

 

Sehun didn’t listen but stared at his phone, not really surprised but neither ready.

 

[21:48, Yixing] _can you come over?_

 

There it was, that which always got him, but tonight was different—he told himself, at least.

 

[21:49, Sehun] _i have my final pre-exam seminar tomorrow morning and i need to revise, so no._  
[21:50, Sehun] _why?_

 

Silence ensued and he furrowed his eyebrows, telling himself that it wouldn’t hurt just to call Yixing and check the situation, by that eliminating any silly worries about that something might have happened which required his presence. Therefore continuing to ignore his roommate who had started to murmur about “getting abandoned as usual”, he tapped the number which he knew by heart only for the call-progress tone to keep sounding for minutes.

 

 _Missed call from Sehun_.

 

He started sweating.

 

[21:53, Sehun] _did something happen?_  
[21:54, Sehun] _pick up_

 

_Missed call from Sehun._

 

A loud groan followed, screamed right into the pillow as Sehun cursed the fact that this night had been ruined. It was now completely impossible to study, to focus on anything else than Yixing, on the idea of that something terrible had happened, that Yixing had been hurt or suffered another psychotic attack.

 

Not yet wanting to call Luhan in panic as that was still his last escape, Sehun typed another frantic message whilst unaware of that Jongin could see it all. Not even asking, the latter started massaging his shoulders in a heartfelt yet silent attempt to calm him down, but little did it help, though, as his roommate was worried and on top of that incurably paranoid since childhood.

 

[21:57, Sehun] _what happened??????_

 

Minutes passed by but not too many, and by the time Sehun had tapped the number again, the phone buzzed and revealed a reply.

 

[21:59, Yixing] _i just miss you. i’m sorry_

 

That one simple message was all that was needed for him to shoot up in an instant, leaving Jongin behind on the bed with no explanation and with his jacket forgotten in the hallway despite the weather. Further replies were left to read for later as he ploughed through snow for twenty minutes, and although he had earlier not wanted distractions, to just study and sleep and prepare for the loneliness, he gave up on self-control without any resistance just like he had done so many times before.

 

They hadn’t met for days in a row and their last night had ended with bitter silence, so now when Yixing was calling him over, through those written words seeming so sad, how could Sehun come up with an excuse? He missed Yixing, too, his company and his touches, and that was all that mattered at the moment.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

Nothing special had happened for all Sehun noticed, yet he knew by just looking at Yixing that something wasn’t right at all. The look on his face, the lack of childish pouts and whines, his overall posture and the way he was shaking slightly while clinging to Sehun once they met on the threshold; all of this was reason enough for the latter to pick the exchange student up and carry him to the bed like some precious little baby.

 

Hugging him there for minutes on end, too tired to ask exactly what was wrong and even scared to look at his face, he tried not to fret over the essay at home which lay neglected, unrevised and not worthy of a grade. All he wanted was to lie there forever, untroubled by studies and by an approaching farewell, to bury his fingers in Yixing’s hair and to breathe in his scent while pulling him closer.

 

“Please don’t say anything,” he whispered eventually in a moment of desperation, in fear of what might leave the other’s pale lips. “I don’t care what it is,” he continued, tearing up, “just don’t say it, I want to pretend for a moment.”

 

Yixing, of course, was as well as Sehun a creature of habit with his own set of ways to escape—now just as always longing for pain, he squirmed and turned and murmured incoherently, yet trapped in that embrace and squeezed in return. Once again begging to get fucked like some cheap corner whore and smacked blue with open palms, strangled into unconsciousness over and over, he kept writhing and writhing in attempts to undress not only himself but Sehun as well. The latter only tightened his grasp, though, ignoring the desperate whimpers that followed—this time, just this time, he refused to give in, not only because he was tired, so tired, exhausted after so many strangers in a week, but also due some sudden wish given birth to by watching the other keep struggling, desperate for release in one way or another.

 

He hushed him softly, pressing a finger against lips that were wet with drool after having started sucking on whatever area of bare skin they could find. Urging Yixing to lie back down, pushing him into the mattress gently, Sehun wondered how it would feel to taste him, to not fuck him but offer some other kind of satisfaction instead.

 

His intentions were as clear as what Yixing wanted, and he thought as the latter kept squirming beneath him that when one wanted sex and the other one cuddles, this was the proper thing to do after all, right? He had done it before with his high-school sweetheart during a time when fucking was scary but for other reasons, so to use it now as a reason to avoid violence was a thing to which his own body reacted unsurprisingly well.

 

He kept Yixing pinned against the bed without hurting, left butterflies kisses on a shivering neck before deeming it safe for his own heart to leave real ones.

 

“I won't fuck you,” he murmured, that being more of a promise to himself, and Yixing whined, wanting nothing more than a round of pain.

 

The pleas were left uncared for as not even Sehun’s lack of self-control or newfound sadism would win this time. Removing himself from on top of Yixing, lifting him up with usually rough fingers, he undressed him carefully and as slowly as possible as if pulling the wrapping off a piece of fragile crystal.

 

“I missed you, Sehun, please just–” he heard, but he tugged at the hem of Yixing’s boxers, his lips leaving trails of saliva across clavicles. Refusing to cause damage, to bite or hit or bruise that thin neck, he let his lips and tongue trail over nipples only to travel downwards and mouth at hipbones.

 

Yixing gasped, clearly reluctant.

 

“Is this okay?” Sehun’s whispers were barely audible but caused violent shivers nevertheless. Breathed against the fabric of already strained underwear, they mixed with the sound of sporadic kisses when Yixing grew harder beneath his touch. “Tell me if it's okay, Xing. I’ll stop if you say no.”

 

Sehun knew that the other preferred the humiliation and dissatisfaction of not being touched, so to find that Yixing stilled beneath him, his body relaxing as it got handled with softness, brought with it a tsunami of brand new feelings. The shy little nod he got offered in response when he peeked up to search for an answer to his question was all he needed to keep his own hands moving, to let his fingers help him establish something new, a kind of longed for intimacy made impossible by choking.

 

He took it all as an invitation to go further, already forgetting than anything _further_ would hurt by the time he woke up one morning alone.

 

“But I–I’ve never…” Yixing suddenly let out, yet doing nothing to stop what was happening. “No one has ever…” he continued while snivelling as if deep inside scared of things other than pain.

 

Sehun paused for only a second. He wanted those words to surprise him but realised that maybe it all made sense, after all—Yixing having always relied on pain after years of not knowing what else to put trust in, the idea of change frightening him enough to prevent him from ever seeking new ways. Pain was always the same, in the end; it didn't betray and would never disappoint as long as the methods corresponded to his tolerance. It wasn't like medication, like love or something else, but something destructively constant in comparison to all else—an honesty in itself in this ever-changing, corruptive world.

 

The realisation saddened Sehun who knew that he wouldn't have time to make a difference, and perhaps he was distracted enough to not wonder why apparently not even Luhan had done this.

 

“I'll show you something else, Xing,” he murmured with a smile in spite of knowing that this would never be better than the pain. “I’ll show you something that won’t hurt,” he promised whilst finally taking the freedom of removing Yixing’s boxers altogether, his own breath hitching by the familiar sight.

 

Whilst tasting the skin on those ashen thighs that were covered with bruises and too many scars, he allowed for his lips to roam freely for a minute and linger on hips before moving on. Allowing himself to kiss Yixing’s groin, leaving soothing pecks on every marred area, he gathered his thoughts only to let them disperse as all too lean fingers got buried in his hair. Exhaustion was but a thing of the past then, all haunting memories of this week’s strangers as distant as that of Luhan having fucked him. Sehun didn’t think of anything else than the gasps leaving Yixing who lay shocked yet shivering, and as he took him into his mouth, he wondered how on earth he had survived all these months— _this,_ after all, was more arousing than fucking the shit out of someone who was crying.

 

The taste wasn’t different than anyone else’s but Sehun enjoyed it nevertheless, relishing in it and determined to remember this precious moment and every small noise that was the product of his actions. He adored him even more now, fell in love once again with Yixing who responded to every touch by squirming and shaking as though not knowing what to do, how to handle the pleasure and the lack of pain which usually offered him some twisted comfort. There would be no fucking, Sehun decided, and this time, he actually trusted himself. Yixing’s fingers brushing so shyly against his shoulders was the only satisfaction he needed right now, for the thing he had realised since arriving there earlier was that in spite of himself apparently finding pleasure in hurting, he had during these months been hurting Yixing for but one subconscious yet legitimate reason—that was giving the latter what he wanted, for all he wanted was for him to feel good.

 

Release came after just a few minutes and as Sehun swallowed every last drop, he knew that in spite of their impending goodbye, a part of Yixing would never really leave him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are still more chapters on AFF so i'm going to try to post more of them on here if there seems to be any interest!


	21. Chapter 21

In this one way, Sehun was his first.

 

That was what the latter thought with a smile as he brushed his fingers through Yixing’s messy curls. They were smoking in bed with the window above only slightly ajar, not caring to even rise from the bed and because of that abandon this newborn, much fleeting feeling. The smoke got stuck inside the room despite the wind but Yixing didn’t mind the smell and neither the hint of death in the sheets or the stains of brown caused by rising ashes. He mumbled it into softly against Sehun’s chest along with something incoherent, perhaps foreign even, his lips dragging only ever so softly over still stiff nipples whenever Sehun drew breath with his arms around him.

 

He didn’t ask to be fucked at all, didn’t beg to get choked or hit. He didn’t giggle, didn’t act like usual, but smiled with his eyes half-lidded like crescents before falling asleep only minutes later.

 

His skin felt warmer than usual against Sehun’s and although his hands were still marred and grey, the softness beneath his calloused skin overshadowed the proof of intentional carelessness and others’ violence. His pallor did suddenly feel awfully unfitting in comparison to how it looked during daytime, for now as they both couldn’t see past this moment, his bruises and scars didn’t match him at all. This illusion of happiness was dangerous, of course, since tomorrow morning would bring with it the dull, harsh reality, but little did it matter to any of them when Sehun placed a kiss on Yixing’s forehead before he, too, decided to give in to sleep.

 

He allowed himself this, to indulge in this moment, pretending for only this ephemeral night to have Yixing to the fullest in spite of that their lips had still not touched. Recalling the taste of the one in his arms, the body touching his, the feeling of his own lips wrapped tightly around him, he couldn’t help but wonder in the back of his mind why no one—not even Luhan—had savoured Yixing, why no one had refused him the assertedly sweet pain for the sake of real pleasure and of loving touches. That Yixing who had slept with half the population had never had anyone taste him like that was a mystery as great as why he and Sehun had not yet kissed, but the latter left it to ponder over later since the silence in his own mind felt way too comforting to break.

 

There were no monsters that night, no screaming in terror at obsidian shadows resembling men wrapped in plastic whispering lies about pills. Sleep came relatively easy to Sehun, too, whose mind was frolicking down hills with Yixing who was laughing, and although he still knew that it would all end soon—this childish masquerade built on naive wishes—he let himself fall for the show like an addict, once again overdosing on his most favourite drug. That was, of course, until he was awakened too soon by the sound of kissing and of muffled moans.

 

He sat up puzzled and already distressed, his gaze seeking Yixing’s only to be met with something else.

 

Of course it was Luhan. It would always be Luhan.

 

It had lasted only hours, that fleeting lie which had been constructed by himself in their tight bubble of embraces. Now staring beside him at those people making out, at Yixing who lay pinned between Luhan and the mattress, Sehun found himself stuck in a dilemma about whether to rip out the others’ intestines in a fit or to start bawling his eyes out in immediate despair. It seemed almost as though it was all intentional, as though the horny exchange students had wanted him to wake and to be met with the sight of them tangled together—perhaps that was even why Sehun now refused to show his own anger and thus admit his greatest weakness, his will to not snap made stronger by the fact that he _knew_ very well, despite what had happened earlier, that Yixing would not end up his in the end.

 

He felt empty inside as he got noticed by the latter but with some kind of heat still settling in his limbs.

 

“Sehun…” The raspy moans then ceased for a moment, Yixing’s lips now spilling his name instead of that of Luhan who had moved on to kiss his neck without pausing as if he didn’t give the slightest damn about getting caught. “Sehun, I–”

 

The sentence got cut off by a shrieky whimper when Yixing squirmed in response getting bit, to Luhan keeping him in place amongst the sheets whilst Sehun heaved himself up on quivering elbows. What happened, though, when a broken snivel hit his eardrums, when Yixing reached out to grab his hand anxiously, was that whatever anger had been given birth to subsided, now replaced with something else, perhaps a wish to be included.

 

”I’m s–sorry, Sehun... I–I didn't mean–”

 

Luhan’s lips were soon on Yixing’s once again, though, and it was suddenly clear to Sehun at that moment that even his own pathetic self-control was nothing in weakness in comparison to Yixing’s. Realising soon that he himself was a bit stronger, he could nevertheless—much to his chagrin—not defeat his own flaws as something between his legs grew hard at the sight of his adorable little exchange student writhing and crying.

 

He didn’t know why it turned him on—seeing Yixing about to get taken by Luhan—and even less could he fathom why the latter’s presence intensified the feeling and the urge to join them. Yet not even trying to fight the recollections of that day on which he had sought out Luhan of all people, the day on which he had let himself get fucked like some whore, Sehun responded to Yixing’s touch by entwining their fingers whilst his body shuffled closer. The sensation only grew then, his struggles redoubled when Luhan broke the kiss and looked up, leaving a string of saliva between his own lips and Yixing’s.

 

In his eyes wasn’t only the usual spite but also something entirely new—something hesitant, even.

 

“You’re finally awake,” he murmured with a smile looking different than the sneer so often gracing his lips. Granting Yixing who had started whining desperately with a kiss much wetter than needed, yet fleeting and rough, he continued to speak whilst grinding hard against his friend, much to Sehun’s dismay as well as unwanted arousal. “I was worried about him so I came while you slept. Xing here has been ignoring me for quite some time, you see.”

 

The kissing resumed for minutes on end, with Yixing’s hand still clutching Sehun’s and with Sehun’s free one moving to touch himself tentatively. The sloppy sound of tongues dancing mixed with that of moans and gasps caused by fingers entering, and by the time Luhan had once again pulled back to whisper, Sehun was physically already more than ready.

 

“It was foolish of me to worry about him, it seems,” he heard, the words almost drowning in the buzzing of his ears, “but I suppose, sadly, that it’s still better now when we’re _both_ here with him.”

 

He saw everything quite clearly in spite of the darkness but couldn’t decide what to focus on. Whilst Yixing lay there, so obedient yet needy while sobbing softly, Luhan’s thin lips were plumper than usual, more swollen and red and so worthy of capturing.

 

“We were getting impatient. We were waiting,” Luhan then whispered, his mouth near Yixing’s but his gaze holding Sehun’s. “ _I_ was waiting for _you_. Isn’t it funny? And now you're finally awake, so hurry.”

 

Sehun considered with his hand still in Yixing’s.

 

It felt quite peculiar, the feeling of his throat contracting, his stomach doing things as if he were to regurgitate out of disgust given birth to by loathing as well as shame. He didn't throw up, though, didn't even leave, and he knew perfectly well that this nausea wasn't nausea but a bunch of perverse butterflies having settled in his stomach. His body had already decided it for him, whether or not to give in to this temptation, and his mind followed willingly once he realised at last that joining them was, in the end, preferable to watching. Luhan having Yixing to himself had turned out to be one of Sehun’s greatest fears and he did, furthermore, already had a boner anyway.

 

All in all, he had nothing to lose. Not at that particular point.

 

“I told you I wouldn't stop,” almost flew right past him when he felt one of the others—who it was didn’t matter—start to stroke his thigh and travel swiftly upwards. “Just give up,” was what Luhan murmured against his perspiring face when they both leant closer—way too close—just to try out the sensation, and be it not for that Luhan’s voice hinted more at an offer than at an actual threat would Sehun have fought him right then and there.

 

The kiss when it happened stung, of course, but it still felt rather nice when he suddenly remembered the bitter look on Yixing’s face after his lips had been captured by Luhan’s last time. Sehun didn't know whether he was punishing himself or punishing Yixing for doing this to him, but all worries about the matter were consigned to oblivion when he found himself pulled into the warm mess of limbs.

 

It all felt nicer than he cared to admit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Such a slut._

 

“Such a good boy, Xing…”

 

_A filthy little whore._

 

“How does he feel, baby?”

 

Sehun was already inside of Yixing after the latter had been taken in turns for hours by his friends whose competitiveness had woken some insatiable thirst. It was an unpretty sight, so wet and sloppy as their impromptu orgy kept moistening the sheets, yet Yixing kept grinding against Sehun’s lap with his lips spilling nothing but soft, quiet whimpers. Cum was pouring from the edges of his hole in almost cascade-like rivers as he got pushed into without pauses, and his legs were quivering in exhaustion and post-release, his fingers clutching whichever limb he could find. Be it Sehun who was gripping his hips too hard or Luhan who kept stroking his back, neck, and hair—there was always at least two hands on his body and always at least one cock up his ass. He was stuck in a vacuum between his two best friends who were scratching and pulling, smacking and rubbing, and whilst Sehun _wanted_ to gag at some of the repugnant nicknames whispered by Luhan, he could still not help but find them awfully fitting.

 

“ _Good boy… Baby…_ ”

 

That was what Yixing was, after all. A goddamn slut, but a baby nonetheless. The thought had hit Sehun previously as well—an abstract, fleeting vision, or just a feeling, of Yixing being his own little baby, a problematic yet innocent child stuck in a fight of custody fought by his two equally problematic parents. He might have been an adult by age but his mind—his own little neverland of wonders—prevented him from ever growing up fully, from ever seeing the world through clear, mature eyes. That was how everyone, including himself, saw him—it had become his character, his unfortunate reality no matter if it was actually true or not.

 

Sehun kept thrusting into his _baby_ as Luhan pumped himself into full hardness again, none of them ready to give Yixing a break yet. Little harm did they see in it, though, since the latter never even mouthed the word ‘stop’ but continued to let himself be taken like a doll whilst more and more cum from the previous rounds seeped from his ass to become stains on the mattress. He wasn’t close to coming at all, had already orgasmed one too many times, still he kept letting his at this point bruised buttocks slap hard and repeatedly against Sehun’s wet thighs. The sound added descant to an obscene cacophony of noises that was as sweet and arousing as it was nauseatingly disgusting, and his lips spilt stuttered nonsense instead of moans as his gaze grew detached and alarmingly clouded.

 

There was a seemingly neverending war going on, one which left neither Sehun or Luhan with any real attention to spare their little Xing who could only listen in despair to the marring kisses that were shared over his own shoulder. There was eye-contact—threatening—when Luhan pulled away from Sehun only to grant him with an almost-smile, one which had turned into a full-blown sneer by the time he replaced one pair of lips with another. Sucking on Yixing’s lower lip with fervour as though their position wasn’t forcing him to twist his neck backwards, he showed exactly who the little one belonged to in that moment in spite of that it was Sehun who was currently inside him.

 

It wasn’t with an intention to hurt that the latter broke it, that Sehun wrapped his own hands around the neck before him and tugged too hard, causing cracking noises. He had promised himself several times now that there would be no more choking, no more hitting and hurting, but the sight of those others sharing saliva and the remnants of cum around Yixing’s mouth had him unable to do else but pull the body on top of his own closer than necessary.

 

“ _Bitch..._ ” He heard it perfectly clear but decided to ignore it, did instead of delivering something painful to Luhan attack Yixing’s bruised neck with his own lips when, finally, his own hands had travelled elsewhere. He realised then how different it tasted, Yixing’s skin now and Yixing’s skin earlier, and wondered how his insides could be screaming right now when he had fallen asleep only hours earlier with his heart skipping beats because of joy and not fury.

 

He barely had time to even consider the next step when Luhan let out a scoff along with murmured whispers.

 

“Do you like it, Xing? Sehun filling you up like this?” Only gurgling noises were offered in response, attempted words accompanied by what could have been a nod or just involuntary compulsions. Luhan kept asking, though, hinting at something _more_ , all whilst slithering even closer from behind. “You like me, too, right? Hm? Do you want more?”

 

Maybe the following drawn-out moan was an answer, or perhaps just the product of Sehun bucking his hips upwards with force. Perhaps Yixing couldn't hear them at all—Luhan whispering propositions into his ear and Sehun groaning huskily in response—but a slut is a slut no matter how precious and this one had already done worse things than this. He might have been close to fainting right there on the spot, losing consciousness in a puddle of his own cum and the others’, yet he kept rocking back and forth automatically as though his body would know exactly what to do even if his mind was to shut off completely. Still sliding up and down sluggishly, his own half-limp cock slapping against his belly which was smeared with cum and sweat and striped red with scratches, he shut his already half-lidded eyes from which tears were still streaming in a silent, steady flow.

 

The noises grew louder, the mattress wetter, and the wounds caused by fingernails digging into his hips multiplied quickly, became deeper and deeper.

 

Things were already going out of hand—Sehun whose legs were numb by now could already sense a burgeoning disaster. Nothing did he do to stop it, however, since he had ever since waking up earlier to kissing accepted that this night wouldn't end up pretty. He knew that a night shared with both Yixing and Luhan couldn't be anything but ugly, even violent, so now when the decision to join them at all had been long since made, there was no point in resisting the rest or trying to prevent the events about to unfold.

 

Furthermore, disaster or not—it felt better than it should have and he revelled in the pleasure, basked in the feeling of a little slut around him and the teeth of his rival wounding his own lips. He didn’t know how to stop or slow down and truth was that he wouldn’t have wanted to anyway, not even when his dick started aching due to pressure and when Yixing let out an anguished scream. He felt it clearly and it hurt a lot but the pain must have been but a laughable trifle in comparison to that which Yixing felt when it happened, when Luhan, too, forced himself into the latter’s loose hole which was nevertheless painfully swollen and still too tight for two cocks to share.

 

The tears never ceased and the cries soon grew louder, let out by Yixing who was stuck between bodies. Hands and lips were now everywhere on him, fingers wrapped tightly around his arms, legs and neck, and be it not for the comforting tongues that travelled occasionally over the hurting areas would his sobs probably have been echoing even louder. Again, just like when it had happened before, he became but a bridge between his two best friends who claimed him while still doing this mostly out of spite for each other, his two horny friends who kept him from collapsing although they were the reason as to why he could not even open his eyes. They held him steady while pushing into him in synchrony as though he wasn’t about to break at any moment, and in spite of the fact that two cocks up his ass was nothing in comparison to some of his prior escapades, both Luhan and Sehun should have realised sooner that there was only so much their little Xing could take. It had been hours, after all, of them fucking him in turns, of his limbs growing heavier and weaker by the minute until a point where he could no longer spread his own legs without help.

 

It was all a mess of gasps and tears, of Yixing’s old bruises blackening anew whilst rows of new ones joined them and darkened. Kisses were shared but only between enemies who didn’t really know why it felt so good, why the other’s lips did in some moments feel sweeter, more worthy of attention than even Yixing’s bloated, stuffed little hole. Nevertheless—whenever they pulled back, whenever Luhan spat curses into Sehun’s mouth about how “ _brats taste nice but sluts taste better_ ”—all Sehun could really recognize at all was Yixing’s tears and his pretty little hands that were dangling limply in various places depending on which positions his arms had been forced into. All he could suddenly hear at the moment he felt strings of drool—his own and Luhan’s—sway from his chin only to drip onto his chest, was Yixing slurring made up words and sentences way too incoherent to interpret.

 

With Sehun’s own vision clouded by shame and exhaustion that was finally catching up with him, too, he wondered in the back on his mind what this would all lead to, what would happen once they were all emptied and done. While still thrusting sloppily along with Luhan, both of them fighting over dominance and space, he tried to sort come up with some sort of excuse as for why he had let this go so far only to fail when fragments of his disoriented thoughts started dissolving into nothing. Chaos started reigning in every corner of his mind, his strength ran out, and his member ached, and his whole body did suddenly feel awfully numb when he realised that his hands had fallen flat against the mattress.

 

Luhan granted him a mouthful of saliva then, going and going as if caring nought about being the only one with any energy left. Reaching as far as he possibly could over Yixing’s shoulder in order to reach, almost crushing the smaller one against his chest, he dragged his lips over Sehun’s whole face before abandoning it just to once again twist his best friend’s neck until it cracked.

 

“ _You’re doing good, baby, so good,_ ” he let out with a hiss which immediately turned into a breathless hum. Pulling Yixing even closer from behind, almost lifting him off of Sehun in the process, he pronounced the next words straight into his mouth which hung open, his own voice growing fainter but his sporadic moans louder. “ _You’re such a good boy, Xing… I love you… so much… more than him… I love you… I… ah…_ ”

 

A frown found Sehun’s face amidst all this, his eyebrows knotted together in forced focus as he tried his very hardest to shut out the sound of those words. Desperately struggling to focus instead on what could be his third or maybe fourth orgasm in a row, he did surprisingly manage to regain control of his own body and poured all of his frustration into shoving up into Yixing.

 

Luhan, however, wouldn’t stop talking, wouldn’t stop slurring those disgusting words.

 

“ _I love you, baby… my Xing…_ ” He was close, just like Sehun, his fingernails cutting deep into skin as he kept Yixing’s neck in place by clutching his jaw. “ _I love you, can you… can you come…?_ ”

 

No response was given at all save for the quiet yet continued cries spilt by Yixing, and Sehun didn’t know what else to do but keep going while trying not to care about the others. Luhan, of course, wouldn’t take tears for an answer and sure as hell wouldn’t accept that his baby wasn’t moaning but crying with his dick now entirely limp.

 

He was clearly struggling as much as Sehun but for different reasons unfathomable to the latter.

 

“I said _baby_ , do you wanna _come?_ ” he thus repeated, almost whined, perhaps trying to dominate but sounding more like he was begging. Still pushing in at an increasing speed which caused both him and Sehun to lose their rhythm, their movements still rough but losing their sharpness, he kept asking and asking for minutes on end until finally, something intelligible left Yixing’s swollen, trembling lips.

 

“N–no…”

 

It resembled a series of small, faint gasps, so softly breathed in pace with how his body got pulled between the others who were soon about to fill him up again. He wasn’t really awake—not fully—yet he was, for his eyes did for one brief moment open up widely, staring straight into Sehun’s before losing focus once again. Perhaps it was just his subconscious playing games, guiding him to spill hints of some sort of awareness, but be it that or just his muscle memory—that one stuttered ‘no’ was the only word he could form, the almost frightening disengagement leading Sehun to wonder what that pathetic protest was really in response to.

 

Luhan kept struggling, though, not willing to admit that only two of them were ready to come once more.

 

“Don’t be like this, baby. Come on, I know you can.”

 

He reached his arms around Yixing’s waist then, wrapped his fingers too tightly around his best friend’s cock in a desperate attempt to have his own will be done. Jerking and squeezing, having Sehun on the other end gag in repulsion at the piece of slack, pale meat getting handled before him, Luhan forced Yixing into hardness again in spite of that the latter had come so many times, in spite of that Yixing had no more seed to spill, no more strength to remain conscious, no more moans even fake.

 

“N–no… s–stop…” Yixing whimpered in resistance and it sounded so pitiful to Sehun who kept thrusting, like a hurt little lamb getting raped by wolves, crying out for its mother one last time before dying. “S–stop… I d–don’t want to… not again– _ah_.”

 

It continued like this as they all moved closer—some of them willingly, one of them not—and it was all too clear that Yixing was struggling for _something_ , be it to come, to remain conscious, or to break free of his friends’ control over his body. Sehun asked himself at some point during this what kind of fucked up relationship the two others shared, for although he had thought that he had seen it all now, Luhan’s lack of respect surprised him. He did, of course, as stupid and unconsciously selfish as he had turned out to be, fail to recognise his own responsibility, that he wasn’t caring about Yixing’s quietly stuttered protests, either.

 

Without pausing for even a single second, Luhan kept taking his friend from behind, his nearly pulsating cock pressing constantly against Sehun’s as they didn’t even care to push in intervals.

 

“It’s alright, baby, let go,” he whispered in reassurance to Yixing who at that time looked ready to either combust or implode. “Come with us, we’ll fill you up,” he uttered with a peck on the crying one’s jawline before staring at Sehun with some sort of threatening encouragement, “ _together._ ”

 

With that one implicit order pounding on his eardrums, Sehun abandoned all of his remaining pride and decided that it didn’t really matter anyway if they managed to shoot into Yixing at the very same time. His own cum had already mixed with Luhan’s and his cock had already bathed in the seed of the person he hated most in this world. That is not to mention the fact that his own ass had been taken by that brat, that his lips and been sucked on by those ugly thin ones. Therefore seeking refuge in the feeling of Yixing’s skin bursting beneath the palms of his hands, he squeezed that waist harder and harder until tiny droplets of blood started trickling from the shallow wounds caused by his own whitening, spattered fingernails.

 

The tightness was overwhelming when Yixing’s unwanted orgasm arrived along with drawn-out mewls and guttural noises, and be it not for the scorching pleasure it still breathed life into would Sehun have pulled out in response to the pain. Close but not there yet, he ignored the feeling of Yixing spilling all over his stomach since he didn’t want to admit to himself that all the filth intrigued him, even turned him on. Yet, his insides kept screaming in returning terror at the scene, his vision turning white as the air took on a smell of metal which was probably just a product of his own disoriented mind.

 

Sweat running from his temple down his face tickled his neck, gathered in the corners of his mouth but got licked off lazily whenever Luhan leaned forward. The hatred wasn't gone but temporarily stifled by their burgeoning orgasms, and just as Yixing passed out between them, Luhan hissed straight into Sehun’s mouth.

 

“You b–better come with me, b–brat.”

 

Sehun didn't have any choice but to do so.

 

He gave it all during those last few moments, accepted one last half-hearted kiss from Luhan who bit down on his tongue and shared the taste of blood. Soon falling on his back with Yixing on top whilst Luhan pulled out to collapse on his own, Sehun shut his eyes and embraced exhaustion, considering whether to just fall back asleep and thus save the inescapable regret for later.

 

He immediately wanted to leave, to escape, to do anything but stay in this dirty old bed which now more than ever reeked of unprotected sex. Nothing more did he wish for in that moment than to hide next to Jongin beneath their duvet back home, to just lean against his friend who would pat him to sleep while telling him softly that it will all be alright. He begged himself to rise but his feet wouldn't let him, not when his limbs felt detached from his body and his mind started wandering towards godforsaken places. Drifting reveries that were but lucid nightmares filled him up from inside, gnawed at his brain, and so did he for the first time since this all started truly regret that he had ever met Yixing.

 

Shuffling only ever so slightly when the latter rolled off him—conscious once again—he peeked down and caught sight of the mess they had caused, of Luhan lying with his back turned away. The latter was quiet, all too quiet, and when Sehun finally realise what had happened, he couldn’t do much more than gasp in terror.

 

“W-what–”

 

Yixing was finally giggling again, and the sheets were bright red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who do you root for at this point?


	22. Chapter 22

Yixing was crazy, that much was certain. Not that Sehun didn’t know it already, but he repeated it to himself now all over again while heaving himself up on the bloodstained mattress.

 

The bright red liquid seemed to be absolutely everywhere and he soon found out exactly where it came from—it was covering his own crotch, soaking the sheets and running to there straight from Yixing’s rear, via his thighs that were shaking inexorably, discoloured beyond recognition by broken vessels and open scratches. It had already started coagulating at places, the dark carmine substance forming thin cakes of blood in in the hollows of his knees as well as between his buttocks, encircling his throbbing, swollen little hole like a halo comprised of blood and mucous. Yixing who was lying there giggling like a child didn’t seem to mind it, however, might have not even noticed the state that his maltreated body was currently in.

 

Sehun was too much in shock to speak or to process the sight, the eyesore before him resembling a scene of slaughter rather than just the aftermath of some threesome gone wild. Even the walls were stained red at places—probably the result of careless fingers—and while the wallpaper hadn’t particularly been intact before, it was now slightly ripped open and bedecked with scratches which revealed the glue, even the plaster behind.

 

Sehun trembled, recalling what had happened—he hadn’t paid attention while orgasming, hadn’t noticed that all the cum wasn’t cum but blood pouring freely from Yixing’s ripped ass along with rectal discharge but luckily not stool. Both he and Luhan had been way too busy, too immersed in their childish bout of sexual rivalry to realise that they had together managed to tear Yixing open, yet did Sehun now—despite this great realisation—just stare at the bruised one with his own aching limbs beginning to twitch. Feeling bile and whatever excuse for food had been his dinner start travelling up his contracting throat, he tried half-heartedly to stifle his gags when a musty odour—thick and nausating—started permeating the humid air that had earlier borne a pleasant aroma, a soon-to-be nostalgic smell of exhaled nicotine and messy curls. While it could have been just an olfactory hallucination, an unfortunate pre-effect of a burgeoning migraine, it felt to him just as real as the blood on the mattress.

 

“It’s okay,” was what Yixing eventually hummed with a smile, though, in response to the silence broken only by retching. Yet still just lying there heavy and quivering, he kept rolling back and forth just ever so slightly whilst continuing to mumble that same assertion in repetition. “It’s okay… it’s okay… Sehun… it’s okay… it’s okay…”

 

His breathing was ragged and his lower lip split, trembling like that of a hungry baby in between the words and the fading giggles.

 

“It’s okay… it’s okay… it’s okay…”

 

It wasn’t until that mantra was broken by violent coughing that Luhan awoke, finally dragged out of his postcoital trance. Turning to once again face the others, to in the best of worlds see if everything was well but in this shitty one just out of a sleepy impulse, he drew his body across the once white, now damp sheets only to find his best friend leaking blood onto the mattress with his left arm bent backwards and stuck behind his back.

 

To say that his face upon finding out looked different than Sehun’s would be a great understatement, as his own expression—as opposed to his dry-heaving rival’s blank, disengaged one—was worthy of that of one having witnessed a murder. Immediately on his knees and with his hands on Yixing, he tried while with his eyes wide open and glossy to mend his friend with his own fingers painted red, too much in a sudden frenzy to realise that his touching did nothing but spread the blood around more.

 

“Shit, Xing, what the fuck, how did–” He nearly yelped, letting out a high-pitched cry when hit by the sight of his own crotch covered in blood as well. “ _Fuck–_ ”

 

Yixing, of course, offered nothing in response, his coughing replaced by only those occasional giggles as he lay there with his eyes shut, looking either high or dying. Sehun was—not very much unlike him—awfully close to shutting off completely, dissociating himself from everything around, from what was as for now his unfortunate reality made ugly and worse by himself and Luhan. While he feared—deep inside—that Yixing would lose it, that the giggling would once again end only to leave space for one those psychotic attacks for which both reasons and triggers remained unknown, he could after managing to suppress his retching not bring himself to provide any preventive comfort whatsoever.

 

Instead, he just kept staring at the scene, blinking languidly even when Luhan elicited a drawn-out groan that was equally desperate as it sounded born out of frustration.

 

“Oh Xing, oh shit, oh fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck– Yixing? Yixing! Answer me! Oh my god– Does it hurt? “ Luhan kept ranting as if the answer wasn’t obvious, his hands travelling frantically across every area of Yixing’s darkened skin as though he was actually stupid enough to not know precisely where the blood had come from and for what reason. “Shit! Did we hurt you?” he shouted in an outburst of what seemed like a sudden, much-delayed realisation, understanding at last that this time, they had gone too far.

 

Had Sehun not been lost in himself, hiding like some coward in his protective bubble of unforeseen dissociation, would he probably have snorted at Luhan’s questions which transcended the very concept of idiocy itself. He didn’t laugh, though, didn’t do much at all save for letting his gaze shift from Yixing’s broken frame to nothing, focusing automatically on some particles of dust swirling before him as if to further—yet futilely—protect his own already depraved sanity. Experiencing for a moment the very taste of a nightmare, one of those which horror lies in the absurd, he felt for a moment not like Sisyphus nor Sehun but like Diomedes being eaten by his carnivorous horses after having travelled through all panels of some Baconesque triptych. Still before Yixing, yet not looking, he listened to the sudden and broken melodies being played on an untuned, imaginary piano and smiled as a distant, raspy voice started humming— _I know simply that the sky will last longer than I._

 

It was soothing, an intangible oasis.

 

“It’s okay… it’s okay… it’s okay…”

 

Suddenly recalling chilly nights on a rooftop from which blankets would fall for the sake of bodily contact, he let minutes pass by of him just sitting there static, soon crooning to himself while tapping his own thighs on which the blood dried quickly to form abstract figures. He couldn’t hear anything but those ethereal melodies whilst Luhan went from shouting to mumbling, the latter giving up his fruitless attempts to draw any coherent responses out of Yixing. Sheets that weren’t yet drenched in blood were being snatched from beneath them to clean up the mess, as were clothes and whatever fabric could be found, and be it not for that Luhan had on a sudden smacked Sehun’s face just to receive some help had Sehun probably fallen even deeper into torpor.

 

“It’s okay… it’s okay… it’s… okay… it’s…”

 

They looked at each other for the longest of seconds, one of them begging with a rather pitiful gaze to not have to deal with this chaos alone whilst the other, however, remained as useless as ever.

 

“Twist his arm back into place while I wipe!” Luhan soon pleaded, gesturing wildly at the body before them which still lay collapsed in a rather unnatural position. “Goddamnit, Sehun! Pull yourself together and listen to me! Yes, _finally_ , how hard is it to just– For fuck sake, you idiot! His _left_ arm, not–”

 

Sehun tried. He really did. Not only to fix Yixing’s apparently dislocated elbow at which every pull should have resulted in screams that never came, but also to follow the rest of Luhan’s orders, to pull himself to together and act according to his—at least alleged—sanity. It didn’t work nearly as well as any of them had hoped, though, not when Sehun allowed stress to overwhelm him, resulting in him using way too much force and moreover managing to bend Yixing’s arm in a way that didn’t help at all—that was, the opposite way.

 

Luhan screamed. Yixing didn’t. Sehun just retreated further into his bubble.

 

“I can’t,” he mumbled then as if solely by instinct, the words barely audible and his breath hitching as he got pushed away towards the corner of the bed. “I can’t… I’m so sorry… I–”

 

Luhan spat a long line of foreign profanities, adding to the clutter of jabbered noises.

 

“Why are you so fucking useless, you imbecile fucking piece of cum stained horseshit, I swear to fucking god that if you just broke his arm I won’t hesitate to do the same to your neck–”

 

“I–I’m so sorry, I–”

 

“Just shut the fuck and help me you goddamn– no, I am going to fucking rip you apart and chop you into pieces if you don’t stay the fuck away from him and I’ll–”

 

“ _I’m s–so s–sorry, I d–dont know what t–to–_ ”

 

“Tuesday was rent day, Lulu…”

 

Yixing’s weak voice caught them both off-guard, caused Luhan to fall silent and Sehun to crawl backwards, but those sad, quietly uttered words weren’t even the least relevant in light of the situation. What mattered wasn’t that Yixing’s landlord had fucked him—regardless of how hard or how often it happened—but that his ass was leaking blood right now and that his elbow was broken or at the very least fractured. What mattered at the moment wasn’t his severely self-destructive behaviour, neither how many people took advantage of that very behaviour, but that Sehun and Luhan had lost control completely and continued to hurt him even after he had fainted. It wasn’t the landlord of this wretched building who had torn Yixing open whilst ignoring his protests, but the very two people who loved him the most, the only two people who actually cared.

 

Yet, Yixing repeated himself faintly, perhaps even _believing_ that they weren’t at fault.

 

“Tuesday was rent day… Lulu… rent day… ah…” An adorable, much familiar smile adorned his lips while he kept murmuring feebly as though he wasn’t still balancing on the brink of unconsciousness, his arm still bent back and his elbow swelling. “…and I… I went out after…” he continued with a yawn followed by a sigh as though this regrettable night with Sehun and Luhan wouldn’t have ended exactly like this regardless of any prior escapades.

 

He shut his eyes then, started humming softly, his sick indifference towards his own well-being causing Luhan to lean back and just hold his breath, gathering enough strength to try to fix what had been broken. Those noises were sweet, though, Yixing’s drowsy voice so mellow, so soothing at least to Sehun who managed to hold onto it like a poor little fish getting reeled into shore, lured onto the road back towards reality which he wouldn’t, however, reach the end of very soon. Again gazing down at Yixing, although this time through dimmed corneas, through constricted pupils, he asked himself if all the blood was really blood or rather the product of his own imagination.

 

It couldn’t have been real—or could it? He wasn’t sure. Not when Yixing looked so serene in a way, so content, so at ease with the current state of things in spite of having cried and whispered “no” not long ago. Sehun couldn’t even try to lie to himself, though, couldn’t claim that it wasn’t exactly the same as it had been every single time since he first got dragged into this destructive business; Yixing sobbing, screaming, and fighting while getting fucked only to collapse right afterwards with a childlike smile, the bizarre yet innocent curling of his lips proving that it was all just a game, in the end. The fact made it harder for Sehun to judge how far was _too far_ —if such a thing even existed—made him doubt his own judgment over and over until a point where the reptile part of his brain starting assuming that there was no point in caring at all.

 

Still, his subconscious, the remains of his conscience and his surviving empathy kept poking at his heart, asking him repeatedly to really look at Yixing and to help Luhan out instead of escaping like always.

 

He just remained there, however, idle and worthless.

 

“Okay… Come on, Xing, let’s get you clean, hm?” Luhan eventually seemed to have pulled himself together at least enough to pronounce those words and to pat Yixing’s cheeks with an exaggerated gentleness creating such a ridiculous contrast to the previous roughness. “Let’s have a shower, okay? You can sit on the floor,” he continued, but with a quivering voice, tugging ever so carefully at his best friend’s waist until Yixing actually managed to sit up, although crooked.

 

It was a sight as bizarre as any low-budget stuff film—Yixing’s lower arm dangling limply as if connected to his body by only a thread, and his head falling backwards in a similar manner, putting all of his bruises and bite marks on display. All areas of his skin save for a few square something were now covered or splashed with at this point dried blood since Luhan had—during his chaotic ministrations—managed to make it even messier than before. Yet, it wasn’t Yixing’s body which made Sehun wonder what the fuck was wrong with the world—it was his face, the pretty smile on his lips, the way he looked so calm, even happy with the pain that he must surely have felt there, somewhere. It was the sight of him stumbling naked to his feet while thick, red cum mixed with yellowing mucous kept running down his thighs that prevented Sehun from even trying to speak, driving him to for the second time in the span of five minutes question if this wasn’t really just some sinister fantasy.

 

“There, baby, careful now, let’s go… We’ll fix this, I promise,” could be heard faintly in the background but Sehun couldn’t even begin to figure out whether or not Luhan had suddenly forgotten about his presence. Proceeding to only stare at those particles of dust whilst the latter dragged a nearly unconscious, still smiling Yixing to the bathroom, Sehun just sat there waiting for nothing, his own hands and the lower parts of his body still wet and sticky with only God knows what concoction of fluids.

 

It soon started spinning all around him; the bed, the dust, the windows, the ceiling, even the dirty floor on which he for a moment too long imagined Yixing crawling, crying as the walls caved in on themselves. Dead men with their faces wrapped in plastic started haunting him in his mind as if he was actually Yixing, the memories of those sporadic attacks of psychosis coming back at him hard for no apparent reason.

 

It hurt.

 

His head really hurt.

 

Back at home, there was Jongin waiting. Sehun’s best friend, or so he had been. A cramped, unmade yet pleasant bed and a pair of arms enveloping him in warmth could replace this nightmare if Sehun only rose, if he grabbed his clothes and walked straight out the door. Essays to plow through, coffee to spill, cigarette stumps to toss out the kitchen window while ignoring whiny protests yelled by his flatmate who could be annoying at times but only in return—things that had seemed to trivial before did now seem so far out of reach to Sehun who couldn’t bring himself to move a single limb, to even try letting his brain stop replaying the things that had happened during these last few hours.

 

It hadn’t even been that bad in comparison, however, a part of him knew or wanted to claim, at least—the blood, the bruises, the offbeat giggling wasn’t that unexpected, didn’t feel stranger than the very concept of their much unneeded existence. Not even dislocated, perhaps broken joints should have shocked Sehun this much since this turbulent journey had been building up to this, with this being hell and his at first “casual” hookups with Yixing and later Luhan forming a ladder leading straight down to here from a monochrome limbo devoid of any pain. He should have foreseen this, yet it scared him. He should have stopped it, yet he hadn’t.

 

It all kept spinning until he threw up on the bed, bile along with half-digested meat mixing with the blood on top of which he collapsed in a fetal position.

 

He wanted to go home like so many times before but the swampy mattress into which he was sinking did suddenly feel awfully pleasant, like a crib. The wet, discoloured fabric rubbing against his skin offered some kind of debatable comfort as lay there in abstruse and unhindered reverie, vacuum and chaos coexisting in his mind but doing nothing to help him in his half-hearted attempts to distinguish the sound of the shower running from that of his own veins throbbing near his eardrums. He was exhausted, completely indifferent towards the fact that he was resting in blood, his own yellow vomit, and hours worth of cum and sweat. Yet, as seconds gathered into minutes and in spite of the debility, the aftermaths of all this, Sehun eventually managed to form thoughts that weren’t just the product of his faulty, crooked self-defensive mechanisms. Able to at least heave himself up only to once again fall flat against the mattress, he silently cursed his own arms for failing him while recalling everything that had happened in repetition.

 

Silent tears started streaming down his cheeks and as he lay there shaking alone, he thought about Yixing, about fucking Yixing, about loving Yixing, hurting Yixing. The mattress grew even wetter beneath his cheek when he hugged his own legs and thought about Luhan, about competing with Luhan, beating the shit out of Luhan, about hating Luhan, submitting to Luhan, getting fucked by Luhan, kissing Luhan–

 

Oh, what a mess he had allowed himself dragged into.

 

Muffled screams and cracking noises emerged from the bathroom for which the door stood ajar but Sehun didn’t really ponder about the cause. Occasional whimpers soon replaced them along with snivels, reassuring words and eventually silence, but even though it could have an hour, even more, Sehun was still too depleted to dress, too tired to keep crying or care about the fact that his tears had left burning trails of salt on his neck. Not even when the water stopped running in the bathroom did he attempt to rise from the mattress again, nor when Luhan appeared fully clothed while carrying in his arms a very pale, petulant Yixing wrapped in towels. Not until the briefest of surreptitious glances was cast Sehun’s way did he move at all, this time managing—with success—to sit up, although still naked and knowing for sure that he would get kicked out by someone sooner or later.

 

“You sure you’re gonna be fine? How’s your arm?” Luhan asked as he popped his best friend down onto the sofa, tapping gently on the injured limb with a sombre face drenched in worry. “Does it still hurt? I’ll stay if you want to, Xing, you know that–”

 

“I'm fine.” He paused, having Sehun react at the amount of fear and anxiety failing to hide amongst those features as Yixing kept mumbling, tired but seemingly better than before. “I’m okay, Lulu. Go home.”

 

Silence followed, then a pout on Luhan’s lips, a sadness that almost seeped through the corners of his eyes.

 

“But your arm–”

 

“It’s not broken. I’m fine.”

 

Sehun had seen it before, this type of interaction. Yet, Yixing’s occasional coldness towards Luhan never failed to surprise him. He had once seen Yixing push his best friend away when presented with what had been just genuine worry, yet he couldn’t fathom the reason behind it nor even make up any rational explanation as to why anyone would showcase such self-contradictory behaviour.

 

Perhaps it was just a game on Yixing’s part—him turning away from Luhan just now when the latter reached to caress his cheek in desperation—but that wouldn’t make the answers any clearer. Perhaps it was just some ingrained fear since there must have been love for Luhan there, somewhere, one much stronger than Sehun’s strictly platonic love for his own best friend who had been there probably as long if not longer. Sure, Yixing’s definition of “friendship” was crooked, but even he must at some point have come to the conclusion that friends don’t share saliva when sober without it usually meaning _something more_.

 

Sehun wasn't sure if he would ever understand. The only thing he knew without a doubt was that it was foolish to puzzle over such pointless questions to which the answers wouldn’t mean a thing to himself. The exchange students would, after all, leave in less than three weeks time and that would the end of their journey as three. Still, Sehun wondered as he sat there in his own vomit—did Yixing not love Luhan back? And if he for some impenetrable reason didn't, then why did the latter keep fighting at all? What exactly had happened in their lives for Luhan to refuse to let Yixing go, and why had Yixing accepted it so far?

 

Not even a clue to an answer came, as expected, to any of these ridiculous questions, only noises of frustration leaving Luhan’s lips when Yixing followed his wish up with cold silence, dodging the arms of his friend trying to hug him and the hands trying to massage him when nothing else worked. The sun did slowly but surely start rising, its low golden rays sneaking in between the blinds and thus illuminating everything, every bruise and every wound, casting colour on otherwise greyish skin and marking bags beneath eyes with see-through shadows cast by lashes that had been thinning due to stress. Little difference did it make, of course, that Luhan for minutes remained seated beside Yixing, waiting perhaps for the latter to lean into him or perhaps—like Sehun—waiting to get kicked out by force after enough time had passed for his best friend to snap. It was a stalemate situation to which no outcome could be positive, a pointless game with no way of winning, and although “giving up” had never been an option to Luhan, he must have realised somewhere along the way that maybe, it was time to listen to Yixing.

 

“Luhan,” the latter let out soon enough in a nearly imperceptible exhale along with some drool, seemingly about to fall asleep at any minute. “I want you to leave.”

 

It came as a sign, as if on demand, that repeated wish now sounding more like an order.

 

Sehun saw how hard it was, watching silently from his spot on the bed as Luhan removed his hand from Yixing’s which it had been clasping for minutes now in silent desperation. He could see Luhan's mouth opening and closing with unspoken words getting stuck behind his teeth, attempted pleas dispersing with the gasps that were the result of him trying not to break into sobs. Sehun saw it, could nearly feel it, the pain and the heartache paradoxically embodied by the lack of oral objections and forced physical contact, and he waited for something more to happen. He examined the pout, that which resembled Yixing’s, and wondered why it had never shown itself before, not even that time when Yixing had yelled and pushed him to the cold, frozen ground. Sehun noticed the reluctance when Luhan rose, the latter with a frown turning away from Yixing whose eyes were tired but refusing to leave the bleak, blue sky visible through the blinds, and again, long after it had happened last time, Sehun felt just a little bit of sympathy for the man whose body he would still not mind finding dissected in a morgue.

 

Yet, of course, he did nothing but keep watching without a word as Luhan seemed to _give up_ on it all, all while waiting for himself to do the same, for Yixing to tell him that he, too, should leave.

 

“Brat. Are you happy now?”

 

Sehun had expected something similar to this, such a snarky remark or even straight-out insults thrown at him by Luhan before the latter could leave and drag him along violently through the door. He kept waiting for something more than those choked up words, though, expected Luhan to grab his arm and pull or maybe push him out of bed and beat him senseless on the street, yet what followed was not much more than the other’s eyes suddenly widening at the sight of his filthy, still naked body.

 

“Sehun,” he heard after what could have been seconds or minutes, but he didn’t respond, didn’t move a single limb. “Sehun..?”

 

He was far from present in spite of having observed from afar as another piece of the others’ friendship fell away. The gastric juices and most other fluids had dried on his skin but the smell still remained, surely having spread through the flat already but to Sehun himself being but another side effect of his own expected, not that unwelcome demise. His senses had at this point become numb, working but far from well enough for any impressions to impact him much, and even if he had actually wanted to move, his limbs would not have obeyed him at all.

 

Perhaps that was why Luhan stepped closer, raising his arm for reasons other than hurting.

 

“Are you… okay?”

 

The question and the feeling of a palm against his forehead had probably brought with it incredulity and backlash had Sehun only been in his right mind, but it was nothing now, meant nothing, did nothing as images of Yixing passing out between them found his memory to once again compete with the vacuum. He saw that worry mixed with justifiable disgust was written across the face before his own, yet he felt nothing, heard nothing at all but the slow, steady beating of his heart, the sound of it resonating slowly through his bones, made impossible to differentiate from that of Yixing now snoring lightly where had finally fallen into slumber on the sofa. The sudden attention given to Sehun by Luhan had caused the former to stop observing the latter, have had him pull right back into his protective bubble as if in fear of coming into contact with a reality which has turned dirty and scary and not worthy of inhabiting.

 

Luhan must have detected that fear—the creeping insanity having bloomed over time—considering that he now repeated the question with a voice turning softer while with a tentative hand pulling Sehun closer by the shoulder. The latter did, of course, not notice the massive amount of pride that Luhan had to swallow in order to climb onto the mattress, placing only one of his knees on the edge of the bed, careful to not let it touch the blood and the vomit as if his washed hands hadn’t already touched Sehun’s body.

 

Perhaps it was sympathy that gave birth to these actions—Sehun didn’t know and neither did he care. Yet, he stared back into the eyes seeking his when a wet strand of hair got brushed off his temple, leaned into the touch when his body was brought into an awkward embrace which felt nonetheless soothing. He couldn’t really pinpoint the exact moment his feet touched ground since the concept of time had turned into but another strange fantasy discarded as nonsense, but he let it happen without fighting at all, let Luhan hold him and usher him gently right past Yixing and towards the bathroom.

 

His limbs were still aching, he realised soon as if walking had brought him a step closer to reality but before he could worry about his legs giving in, he found himself wrapped in yet another embrace.

 

“You better pull yourself together now, brat,” was breathed as but a whisper against his neck, the transitory bitterness in Luhan’s voice transcending into some kind of involuntary yet somehow genuine concern. Be it for Sehun himself who had started slumping limply against his human pillar or for Yixing who would soon wake up to deal with the mess; it was there, undeniably, even when Luhan kept murmuring, quiet as if careful not to speed up the process of his best friend falling out well-deserved drowse.

 

“Are you even listening, shithead?” he asked rhetorically before letting out a grunt as a hushed reaction to having to tighten his rather slippery grip on the still unclothed body when it glid down his chest. “Stop drooling on me and get a hold of yourself if you’re gonna stay here with him– Hey, Sehun! Come on! Can you hear me?” He groaned in exertion and increasing frustration when no intelligible response followed his ranting. “I swear to fucking Satan, if you pass out now I’ll just dump you in the nearest container and tell Xing that you– _Oh, for fuck sake just stand up already, goddamnit, I can’t– Why are you so heavy, oh shi– I can’t believe this is fucking happening to me, what did I ever–_ ”

 

Sehun could, in fact, hear him quite clearly. What he couldn’t do was find it in him to comply, not with his mind having wandered this far into darkness. Instead, with his cheek having nowhere else to lean than heavily against the crook of Luhan’s neck, he let himself be fooled into indulging in the solace provided by someone for whom his hatred had started subsiding just now—even if it was just for the shortest of moments.

 

“Stay,” he just slurred, making himself heavier, suddenly unsure about whose impossibly soft arms he was really being held by as he slid even further. While he could feel Luhan’s breath caress his skin, he mixed the sound of distressed sighs up with sleepy whimpers coming from sofa, and while he _knew_ that there was only one person in this world whose scent was similar to—but not the same as—Yixing’s, his mind would suddenly not let him draw lines between the dots or secern silly wishes from physical reality.

 

“Stay,” he thus repeated feebly, turning drowsier and more nauseous as each second passed by while gravity began to ultimately overwhelm him. “Please don’t leave me,” he continued with a creaking whine when he felt fingers dig in between his upper ribs and armpits, those childish noises given birth to by an ever-growing unwillingness to let go of that which had—much to his currently hidden chagrin—turned out to be the very nucleus of his life.

 

Perhaps he would realise once he returned to his senses that no matter how much he needed Yixing to himself, Luhan would always have to be a part of that desire regardless of that the latter might now have given up the contest. Perhaps Sehun would realise, at last, that loving Yixing meant dealing with Luhan, that no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he hated the latter more than anything else, he had neither the right nor the heart to deny Yixing the company of who had, after all, been his best friend since long before he first spotted Sehun in the cafeteria.

 

Not that this was of any importance, of course, since Sehun would wake up tomorrow morning to an even greater realisation which he had already been faced with times and times over—that all courses of this term would end in less than a month, that the exchange students would pack their belongings and leave and resume their lives and studies elsewhere.

 

It was hard sometimes, though, accepting the truth, especially when the memory of this last night’s events had come to poison Sehun’s mind like a box of oxidized wine mixed with too many sleep aids.

 

“Stay… please… I don’t care anymore…” Those pathetic pleas were but gasped-out cries at this point, his lips drawing lines of saliva across him whose shirt he was clutching with quivering fingers. “I really don’t care… just a little bit longer…” he cried out weakly as though it would actually make a difference, as though he wouldn’t regret having pronounced those words later after sleep had cleansed him of this transient lunacy.

 

“Please… stay… I can't… don't go…”

 

His knees gave in not long after he started choking on saliva and tears that tasted more like bile than salt, months and months worth of chances to stop this replaying before him as if in deteriorating revue. It was with such pathos it happened, such hyperbolic melodrama that it would have caused his past self to laugh in disbelief and derision, but he could now not care any less about pride while letting himself fall fast and freely.

 

The pain of hitting the floor never came, though, due to a certain someone catching him mid-air.

 

“Stay…” he kept whispering nevertheless, far too disoriented to pay any notice to that Luhan had turned quiet in response to the begging, frozen for seconds without knowing what to say before pulling him back up into standing position.

 

“Listen to yourself, you pathetic fool.”

 

That one simple sentence would have come across as scornful be it not for that Luhan’s voice was shaky, his arms wrapped gently yet firmly around Sehun who would otherwise have tasted the cum-stained floorboards. His hands that were still warm after having bathed Yixing felt so soft, so squishy against Sehun’s bare waist, and they lingered there for far too long yet for all Sehun knew could have been just a mere millisecond. The latter could, however, not think much of it save for that he felt a lot warmer than before, a little less filthy after having been handled with such unintentional care as if having transferred some of his stickiness to Luhan.

 

It did nevertheless not stop him from crying, from proving this final, awaited breakdown through broken snivels which grew into sobs in just a matter of seconds. The tears washed some of the vomit off his face but kept burning his skin like antiseptics in gashes, and although he would usually have preferred the most gruesome of deaths over hitting a wall in front of _Luhan_ , of all people, all sense of self-respect had left him along with the food and juices spewed out on Yixing’s bed earlier.

 

He started retching again after gagging on nothing, soon gasping for air in a miserable attempt to maintain his awareness or what little was left of it. Clinging to Luhan as well as he could as if his life depended on him staying glued to the nearest living being—whichever piece of shit that happened to be—he did in spite of the circumstances manage to gather enough brain capacity to ask himself if this was just panic or something more dire. Hyperventilation was a fact, though, his respiratory rate increasing, the result of his own endless stupidity smothering him slowly from the inside.

 

It must all have brought some terror out of Luhan considering that the latter didn’t even try to wrap the following words in any camouflaging snide whatsoever.

 

“H–hey… It’s okay, I–” He seemed shocked, at the very least, by this highly atypical behaviour. For that sole reason seeming unable to do much else than stroke Sehun’s back ever so gingerly whilst still struggling to sustain their rather unstable posture, he kept mumbling reassurances, half-hearted pleas withal. “It’s okay… Hey, calm down,” he hushed, his voice growing significantly shakier the longer his efforts remained abortive, passing right through Sehun whose lungs would—at this rate—soon hold more carbon dioxide than oxygen. “Listen, it’s okay, d–don’t cry… Fucking shit, S–Sehun, stop crying… goddamnit…”

 

In the sofa, Yixing whimpered in his sleep, as terrible as his nightmares might have been in comparison still happily unaware of what was going on in the real world.

 

“Sehun, stop, I don’t know what to do…”

 

There might have been an easy solution to this situation be it not for the current state of affairs in which neither Sehun nor Luhan knew at all how to act, in which the former of them had even lost touch with rationality, lost control of his emotions, let go of all dignity and put temporary trust in someone for whom his loathing had used be boundless. Perhaps Luhan, at least, should have known what to do since years spent with Yixing should have been practice enough, since it should have given him at least some kind of experience in such matters as of people losing their shit without warning.

 

That was probably the case, or was it? Yixing was different than Sehun, after all—maybe that worked well as an excuse.

 

“Please, listen, I’m–” Luhan began again but wavered, squeezing the still dishevelled Sehun whose grip on reality began slacken once again. The latter could feel something sprouting then, some kind of untrustworthy energy building up during that pause as it fed off the lack of comforting words, growing and growing until a lengthy exhale striked his neck like a scathing breeze during the darkest and most unforgiving of winters.

 

He tried to look up but his eyes were vibrating, his vision too blurry to see past the mask which Luhan had apparently plastered back on. He could barely even notice the change, or predict that things were about to return to normalcy, but it was there in the way Luhan dropped his own shoulders and loosened his grip on the mess in his arms as if deciding that it was pointless to care about this nonsense.

 

“Sehun, listen–”

 

Only a second of slight hesitation was noticeable, maybe more had Sehun been lucid enough. Then again, though, would the latter not even have found himself here if his brain had actually been functioning correctly—he wouldn’t have tried to hold on for his life, wouldn’t have allowed his tears to run freely, wouldn’t have grieved the loss of warmth following last few words mumbled coldly against the top of his head.

 

“–I’m sorry, okay?” Luhan sighed, letting his fingers drag slowly across Sehun’s back only one last time before pushing away. “For everything. There, treasure it.”

 

He avoided eye-contact altogether as he retreated completely, revealing no sign whatsoever of caring about the fact that Sehun was now forced to rely on the doorframe to support the entirety of his heavy body. There was at this point no trace of compassion left, all previous softness having returned to hide beneath the many layers of pure, bitter spite and concealing insolence.

 

He scoffed, but it might have been a bluff.

 

“And for fuck sake, brat, have a shower. You stink.”

 

That was it and before Sehun knew it, Luhan had slammed the front door shut, left behind but a whiff of regret and a broken Yixing failing to wake up even after falling off the sofa due to vivid nightmares.

 

Sehun didn’t know what to think, even less how to feel about the events unfolded. He couldn’t find any answers at all, no solace nor pride in being left with Yixing, and so did he just follow his instincts and do what felt the most convenient at the moment—that was, collapsing right on the threshold of the bathroom, spewing out whatever remained of his insides while wondering if Yixing would cry later on when finding his fuckbuddy dead, drowned by his own vomit.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i’m aware of that you don’t let out cascades of blood after ripping your asshole but this whole fic is one big exaggerated unrealistic mess anyway so pls let me live :(


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realised just as i was about to post chapter 24 that i had forgot to post chapter 23 here SORRY (i keep better track of my updates on AFF)

  
When Sehun awoke hours later, he found himself prostrate in a puddle of piss. Had it all been a dream? That was a possible conclusion as tempting as falling right back asleep. It was, however, far from the truth as much as he tried to propose to himself any cogent reason as to why he would have been lying there otherwise with some filthy blanket covering only half of his body.

 

The dry, brownish blood flaked off his skin upon movement like the cum so often peeling off Yixing when a shower was deemed gratuitous since they were “all dirty on the inside, anyway”. The crusty coat—thick but brittle—was almost too much to handle for Sehun to whom it was but superfluous proof of that yet another mistake had been made. As was the mild yet static pain which would go off into throbbing at the sudden, unintentional twitches of his features, at each shift in position no matter how subtle and regardless of how cautiously he tried to put his aching limbs into motion.

 

He couldn’t see much from his spot on the floor but the question about whom this flat belonged to had fallen out of existence the moment his vision had become more clear than blurry. There was, in fact, despite the previous prospects of Sehun suppressing the traumatic memories of this morning, no doubting at all that he was still at Yixing’s—he was used to these floorboards, the splinters in the wood, the at most times unidentifiable substances creating stains of different shapes and sizes. Sehun was even familiar with this exact spot as he had fucked Yixing by this very threshold one time when a shower had actually felt tempting, after “a quicky, I promise” had turned into an hour and an “innocent blowjob” had transformed into some kind of solo bukkake. They hadn’t made it past the bathroom door that time, and no surprise was there in that.

 

The small-scale living room looked especially dark in the afternoon dusk when the blinds were pulled down, unlike they had been at the time of Luhan’s departure. Still, some bleak light managed to creep inside from between the balcony door and the fissured door frame, illuminating a layer of dust and thus emphasizing the importance of owning—or rather, regularly using—a vacuum cleaner or at least a broom.

 

“ _What's the point in cleaning? It’ll get filthy again,_ ” would Yixing argue as a routine, though, following his childish huffs up with a glower of half-sarcasm wrapped in passive-aggressive murmurs. “ _It’s all pointless, Sehun, just like it’s written in these stupid essays. As it’s quoted over and over and over again_ — _but I’m sure you already know that, you smartass_ — _it would be so pointless to kill myself that even if I had wanted to, the pointlessness would make me unable! If we believe in nothing, if nothing has any meaning and if we can affirm no values whatsoever, then everything is possible and nothing is of any importance at all! The whole point is that there isn’t any point! You see! Blah blah blah!_ ”

 

Nowadays, a mere lack of an answer was always the response to those repeated tirades but Yixing, when in that certain mood, never seem to care as he had slowly over time adapted to, even begun to adopt, Sehun’s questionable loyalty to extreme nihilism in all its forms. Instead of waiting for what he possibly wanted, a “ _You know what? I guess I’m wrong after all,_ ” he would simply rip pages straight from the book and fall backwards dramatically onto the dirty floor with his arms spread wide like the wings of a penguin. The hand-shredded paper would sail the air around him like feathers plucked from a since long dead dove, but they would make no sound, would only sink in slow-motion until they eventually touched ground and got swept under the rug. They were but trash, in the end, even less important than the illegible labels peeled off cartons of milk and cheap, oxidized wine.

 

“ _You believe that, Sehun, so I’ll believe in it, too. Ah, can you feel that? The taste of defeat! Hah! Touché! The Absurd scores again!_ ”

 

On those days he would keep ranting for hours with an angry pout against Sehun’s bare shoulder, his croaky voice bearing too much resemblance to the sound of some old, unimportant sceptic’s words getting crumpled simultaneously between his tobacco-stained fingers. He would whine but leave no room for quarrels, would spit out monologues like a veteran poet who cares nought about whether the crowd is listening or asleep.

 

“ _You’re right, you know, you truly are!_ ” His words had come to sound more bitter over time, his voice as childish as ever before but his tone leaving behind a sense of melancholic disengagement in spite of the pathos, the dramatic shouting.

 

“ _Enlightenment embodied! Messiah! Sehun! I would even say that I love you for that but I get it now… I’d laugh at myself! Hah! I can see now how counterproductive it’d be– wait, that’s not it. Can you widen my vocabulary, too? Of course you can’t… haha… But anyway, I’ve been living a lie, Sehun. Such an idiot I’ve been! I think… Not that it matters, though—you see? Are you proud of me now? Now that I agree with you fully without fighting? You won at last, and you know—it’s quite funny—if life was on a tape, I would have to add your name in italics when the credits start rolling. You really did that to me, Sehun! Wow! Made me realise the unimportance of everything! And no, I’m not just saying that to make you fuck me again– no, shut up, really! Unless you want to, of course… haha… But look! The point is… the remains of this book, you, me, us—it’s all nothing._ ” He would sigh then, let the pages slip, look at them with some sort of nostalgia in his eyes that were droopy and bathing in immortal sadness. “ _It’s like we never existed. And we won’t, Sehun. We really won’t.”_

 

Sehun would listen but never argue against it. Why would he? Any objections, genuine or not, would prove him to be a hypocrite since he was, after all, just like Yixing would say, the cause of this nonsense, the latter’s drastic change of belief. It was almost a pity that it had turned out this way since this growing indifference brought with it danger, but then again had it never seemed as though Yixing gave a damn about his own wellbeing. Perhaps the lack of meaning in life didn’t make a difference to those who would poke themselves with cigarettes for relief, and perhaps it felt even more liberating for Yixing to know that his shitty life didn’t matter at all.

 

Sehun sighed now in his puddle of regret. It was hopeless. Fighting those recollections, the intrusive thoughts and each memory of every previous conversation with Yixing, he monitored the dust and the remains of those ripped out pages lest they might leave the floor in shadowy swirls, getting caught by the drafts and sucked out the door. The absence of that dirt would surely just make him feel even more alone than he already was in spite of the presence of another person in the room, in spite of the soft, nearly indistinguishable snores breathed out rhythmically outside his field of vision.

 

With little of his attention left to spare the ragged blanket resting thin over his figure, he shuddered a bit nonetheless. The threadbare fabric made his skin all itchy, had managed even to soak up some of the lukewarm piss and force it to act against the very laws of gravity. He must have urinated after it was put there unless, of course, whoever had tried to wrap him in it had failed to remember that textile is absorbent. Whoever it had been couldn’t be _that_ unobservant, he concluded, if not they were himself, Oh Sehun, the densest fool of all human beings, he who had lost the ability to think straight.

 

For a minute or two, or ten or twenty, however, his thoughts weren’t even crooked or illusory, but as dry and barren as some cursed old fig trees.

 

He just kept squinting, observing the thin strip of light stretching from the door all the way to the sofa positioned against the opposite wall. It was actually open—it finally struck him then—the balcony door. Why was it open? The fact did provide him with a clue about the time, though, and he guessed as well as he possibly could given the hints that it must have been three o’clock, maybe four at most. Winter was still reigning, after all—in an hour or two it would be pitch black already unless the moon decided to honour the city with its so often underappreciated presence.

 

As a matter of fact, darkness had come to feel more normal than light, not only figuratively speaking. L’heure bleue was barely a thing at this time of year—it did, if ever, last no longer than fifteen minutes, given of course that the outside was clear enough for the last, dying remains of sunlight to be reflected on the sky above them. Even the streetlights and other man-made devices were disruptive enough, a threat in itself to what was according to poets supposed to be an hour of blue, orange and violet as the ever-growing light pollution seemed to smother even the stars sometimes. Yet, from time to time, those colours would fearlessly embellish the already specked firmament like liquid fire on a drenched canvas, the illusion of static equilibrium broken only when those flames started resembling a sea of bluebells after Lucifer passed the torch onto Hel.

 

The sky wasn’t blue now, though. It was grey. A sigh slipped Sehun’s lips and it tasted like ashes.

 

He tried to roll onto his back but in vain as his limbs were all stiff and sticking to the wood. Perhaps it was the syrupy vomit, he thought since he could feel rather clearly his own cold urine splashing in tiny waves against his skin, not possibly having the power to restrain his movements. It was actually quite funny, he might have admitted, that he had managed to in his sleep discharge such an ample amount of liquid since he couldn't remember having ingested even a drop of water nor anything else of value before or after ripping Yixing open. Exchange of saliva couldn’t be the cause of this mess, he deduced like the insufferable smartass he was, no matter how many mouthfuls he had received from Luhan.

 

A peculiar idea came to him then and he wrinkled his nose at the ammoniacal stench. He felt drained but not in regards to his bladder which did in fact still ache as much as the rest of his body, and he pondered over what might have happened exactly. While with his cheek wet and pressed hard against the floor, he thought that what if this was just an experiment, some sick project in which he—Oh Sehun, helpless university student in his early twenties—was but an unaware test subject, an easily manipulated guinea pig deemed worthless enough to be the victim of such crimes. Stranger things had happened to others, after all, human mysteries that made him a bit feel less crazy when beginning to muse on the rather questionable subject.

 

Without denying his heavy eyelids the pleasure of falling shut, he let his thoughts wander a bit while waiting for some of the pain to subside.

 

Psychic driving—that could have been it, right? It wouldn’t have been the least plausible explanation for why he felt detached from his own cloudy memories. An illegal depatterning project á la Cameron but more subtle might have had been taking place during this past semester, run by Luhan and Yixing or maybe the latter alone, performed as the basis for some final paper on psychology or even ethics had they actually been aware of their sins. Perhaps it had started on that disastrous night on which Sehun had been handed acid on Baekhyun’s party, or maybe the kickoff had happened even earlier. Perhaps it had begun as far back as that time when Yixing had slammed his number on the desk and asked Sehun to get in contact in case he needed his book back. Unless, of course, it had started as late as last night when Sehun had for the first time taken Yixing into his mouth and foolishly swallowed each single drop as though that would keep them united forever.

 

He smiled automatically at the sudden recollection but his face seemed to crack like too dry plaster, obliterating that pathetic smile on his lips before even a fraction of a second had turned into the past.

 

Anyhow, rather than born anew, Sehun felt cleansed but not in the preferably good way. More than anything, this imagined new state resembled that of an alien having been plopped down on this earth in which nothing at all meant anything to him. An extraterrestrial refugee was his brand new persona—he was now but a newcomer to this world without meaning, a bleak shadow of an infant homo sapiens without any ties to anyone or anything. No friends, no lovers, no university professors bore faces with which he felt acquainted at all, and not even the boy over there on the sofa was to Sehun anything more than a stranger. Yet, had that boy woken up at this moment would Sehun have reclaimed every memory in a heartbeat, and had Jongin or Baekhyun, even Chanyeol showed up would he probably have crawled towards them with his arms spread wide.

 

He knew, in fact, that he hadn’t been brainwashed, but excuses and reveries had saved him before.

 

As an expert on excuses, a practised liar whose lies were almost always told to himself, he considered maintaining this intriguing daydream. It was much easier for him, less painful to uphold this ridiculous game of play-and-pretend than to heave himself up and take care of the filth. Playing the part of some hapless patient did at the moment feel more tempting than accepting his true self, and although the bathroom was less than an arm’s reach away, dragging his heavy limbs into the shower felt like a task as impossible as saying no to Yixing. Yet did he at least acknowledge the real world, putting away those silly imaginations to elaborate later in the calm of his own bed with Jongin beside him as some semblance of safety. He was, after all, still fully aware of that he _had_ to keep the last, frail pieces of his sanity in check until the exchange students left him with them to glue together on his own.

 

Minutes passed with no sound but breathing and Sehun managed to turn his head, at last, albeit slowly and not without cracking his neck. As if still controlled by subconscious desires—or by fear, by worry or perhaps just out of habit—he focused his gaze on the boy on the sofa who lay clothed—surprisingly—and accompanied by bottles. The usual plaids, the tattered pillow cases were drenched in beverage that was dripping from fake wool fringes, down onto the floor before gathering into semi-opaque puddles of dark red aperitif. Watching it get soaked up by the emptiness between the grimy floorboards, Sehun made his first reasonable conclusion since waking up:

 

Yixing must have woken up before him and returned to sleep after chugging a few. It was hard to from afar judge whether or not his chest was moving, if he was dead or alive or on the brink of succumbing to alcohol poisoning. The light snoring gave it away, of course, proved his tolerance and had Sehun remember that his sick little friend had an unhealthy thing for replacing breakfast with cigarettes and cheap red wine. It was strange, though, for it was already late afternoon with no sign of Yixing having woken up already save for his clothes and those empty bottles of wine, felt a bit too much like another fever dream for Sehun to trust his own treacherous senses.

 

The blanket kept chafing against as his irritated skin, slithered in between his thighs when he turned towards the bed. There was no one there, no sleeping Luhan nor an abusive landlord in search of his prey, but sheets that appeared cleaner than Sehun remembered them. Even the pillows and the cushions looked puffy instead of dented, balanced neatly against the wall on which the stains of blood seemed to have been wiped off completely. A strong whiff of bleach hit him at that moment, the queer mix of vomit, piss and detergent having him question his own memories and sense of reality once more and wonder if any of last night had really happened.

 

He inhaled it, though, enjoyed the sting that it caused, let it burn his airways, felt it eat away at his brain.

 

It wasn’t until then he also noticed the hint of lavender creeping gently along those thick, nasty currents, and along with it the sound of droplets still leaking from the shower. The ever so gentle tapping against the ceramic tiles gave birth to something in the pit of his stomach and he thought then, perhaps even mumbled to himself that a little more filth wouldn’t matter at this point. He was already resting in a puddle of piss that would surely feel less unpleasant if it wasn't as cold, thus was the decision not hard to make, should barely even have been considered a decision at all. The urge to let go was stronger than his pride and there weren’t many perks to keeping the pain inside, and so did he let it all out in one go while foolishly hoping that he would get cleansed in the process.

 

A deep, lengthy groan left his lips in relief when he completely relaxed his pelvic floor muscles but he wondered as the puddle increased in both temperature and size if the stinging pain between his legs had been there before. Had it always hurt this much to take a piss? He didn’t know, but damn, did he want to? Any answer, positive or not, wouldn’t have brought him any comfort in light of the situation, so all he could really do was swallow the whimpers and ignore the little voice hissing in his head—“ _you know perfectly whose fault this is_ ”—all while waiting for the stream of liquid fire to stop running.

 

The seconds it took became more excruciation as each passed by, felt more like minutes of someone ruthlessly fucking his infected urethra with a mechanical pencil dipped in acid. The ultimate satisfaction of emptying his bladder had the pain mix with at least a bit of pleasure, however, the utter mental and physical thrill of letting go entirely with no inhibitions whatsoever. It felt somewhat nice, he admitted as he lay writhing, to cover Yixing’s floor in turbid piss, and he did furthermore admire the complexity of taking a leak after holding it in while still tainted by the filth of a hundred strangers who he had never met and never would meet.

 

The end of it came eventually, like that of all things, and before Sehun could even regret his decision, the puddle was as unforgivingly cold as before. It didn’t really help that the pain remained, that it intensified regardless of whether he moved or kept still as if irrevocably triggered by the very first contaminated drop—it only amplified the discomfort, the shame, the anguish, reminded him over and over again of that his list of mistakes was twice as long as every fucking anthology he had ever plowed through. Perhaps it was a good thing, perhaps it wasn’t, that he admitted the truth, his own fault in all this, that as much as both Yixing and Luhan were just as were responsible, he fully deserved to suffer like this.

 

Snatching the blanket off of his body, sick and tired of feeling its wetness all over him, he tried to toss it across the room but failed as it travelled no farther than to land on his feet. He couldn't get it off, could suddenly not even wiggle his toes without cringing at the whines leaving his own lips. Oh, how the tables had turned so quickly as it was now him, not Yixing, who lay moaning in pain, biting back screams as a thousand needles seemed to be poking at his groin, piercing his bladder, getting forced right through his dick and aching balls. It was strange to think that whatever had started sprouting down there had come from Yixing since Sehun still viewed him as a precious child in some peculiar sense, no matter how aware he was deep inside of that Yixing had in fact been collecting diseases like others would collect pretty gems and seashells. Somehow, he still refused to acknowledge that Yixing could ever be the source of real sickness, and he told himself that this was just something simple, a urinary tract infection at the most.

 

It was a lie, of course, again, not an honest misjudgement, and he knew perfectly well that he would just ask Baekhyun for some illegally obtained replacement for antibiotics instead of actually visiting a licensed doctor.

 

He almost laughed then at what a pathetic excuse for a human he was whilst the chill winter air now swept freely across his body along with a quiet surge of neverending defeat. He treasured it while he could—that weak distraction washing over him in currents, allowing him to focus on something other than the pain—and shut his eyes only to open them in an instant.

 

They fell on Yixing’s sleeping, half-reclined body propped up uncomfortably against the backrest of the sofa. It looked so sad in a way, the sight of that sweet yet troubled man drooling while hugging an empty bottle with splinters of glass stuck in his fingers. The tint of red on his bruised, swollen lips could have been blood but Sehun knew better, realised now that Yixing was much more different than himself. He was used to the pain, used to getting fucked, despite his indifference to filth in all its forms used to cleaning himself up after bleeding. He could take care of himself after getting ripped open by friends better than Sehun could ever care for himself after something so simple as having peed on the floor.

 

It must even have been Yixing who had cleaned the flat, opened the door and wrapped Sehun in a blanket. It must have been him, not Luhan nor anyone else who had at least _tried_ to fix whatever could be fixed. It must have been him who had replaced the smell of vomit and piss with lavender and detergent, he who now lay resting in a well-deserved nap.

 

His eyelashes had stuck together, now wet and clumpy, his eyebrows knitted and occasionally twitching. The bags beneath his eyes were shiny and puffy, his cheekbones specked with tiny red dots resembling freckles on his otherwise pale, grey face. His lips when Sehun observed them from afar looked so sweet in spite of the wine and the bruises, so tempting, somehow, so plump and pouty as if asking to be captured right at that moment. They did now more than ever seem so worthy of tasting, of getting sucked in between teeth and massaged until healed, so in the briefest and wildest of forbidden daydreams, Sehun let himself crawl closer to try them.

 

It was nothing more than chastest of pecks, just a light touch of dry, chapped lips against soft ones, the tip of his tongue sneaking out for just a second to explore the deep corner of Yixing's mouth. The taste was nothing—he couldn't bring himself to imagine it at all—but the sensation was nonetheless physical and real as the pain in his crotch seemed to fade for just a minute to leave room for shivers travelling through his body in waves.

 

He smiled. It was fine. Everything would be fine. Today was just another drowsy day of skipping lectures that were boring and unnecessary to attend, of him and his perfectly sane boyfriend catching up on sleep instead of sharing diseases.  Luhan didn’t exist, had never existed, would never come back there to remind them of the truth, and there wasn't a person on this beautiful earth who could ever convince Sehun that love is toxic.

 

He kept smiling, let his eyelids fall shut. Yixing was tired so he would let him keep sleeping, would let him stay hugging those bottles on the sofa for as long as he wanted, even for days if needed. He would wipe up this puddle of piss and vomit which was nothing but the result of an upset stomach, then swallow some painkillers—the regular kind. He would rise to his feet, have a shower or two, then order some food for Yixing to munch on later as the sun slowly set. They would hug and kiss, ignore the rest of this world, would laugh and bicker over existential issues while trying to catch up on neglected studies.  Hours would pass and Sehun would yawn before scolding Yixing for chugging more wine and the latter would giggle, put the bottle away before tiptoeing with an almost dead cigarette between his lips. They would share his fire, inhale the smoke together, would throw childish competitions of throwing butts at the people passing by down below with funny frowns on their faces.

 

The smile remained. Everything would be fine. Nothing bad had ever happened between them and Yixing wouldn't leave, not tomorrow nor ever. Sehun would fix this, whatever _this_ was, would make sure that when Yixing opened his eyes, everything would look brighter and all demons would be gone. He would fix this. It would be fine. He would fix it all.

 

…it wouldn't hurt to lie down just a little bit longer, though.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i double posted so make sure u didn't miss chapter 23 before reading this uwu

  
Someone was poking Sehun’s body. It was soft yet too hard and repetitive for his liking, and he felt an awful lot like a half-dead fish having been reeled in by some child with sadistic tendencies. Damn, he was even wet and sticky and his skin felt cold from the lack of that blanket which he must have managed to kick away, at last. Furthermore were his limbs all flaccid and he feared that his spine might have dissolved in his sleep.

 

 _Oh shit_ , he thought—the similarities were unpromising. What if he had really turned into a fish?

 

Perhaps if he was lucky, though, someone would soon shove a knife through his head if he only started wiggling violently enough. The thought of that was way too pleasant and he considered for a moment securing a quick, painless death before the child who was poking him grew bored with the semi-lifeless catch and left it to die slowly on its own. Sehun didn't expect to survive this, anyway, so what better idea was there than to speed the up process and lessen the unavoidable suffering as much as possible?

 

 _Wiggle, you idiot!_ he told himself, trying. _Come on now, wiggle! Just one final wiggle!_

 

He did in the end keep still, however, only twitching occasionally at the lingering burning in his crotch and the feeling of a finger still tickling his ribs. If he didn't have the energy to even rise and escape then how would he be able to start moving like crazy and thus scare the child into stabbing him to death? Leaving this world in a slow, painful manner was the only way to go, it seemed.

 

 _Oh well_ , he thought. It suited him, anyway.

 

He let out a pathetic excuse of a groan when opening his eyes just wide enough to see. Ready to meet his all too cruel fate, to either become dinner or get tossed back into the water, he prepared for whatever the universe had in mind for him. What met his gaze, though, wasn't a fisherman’s son but a worried face transforming into a shocked one at the sight of a very much alive Sehun.

 

Jolting out of his stupid delusions, he caused Yixing to back away with a high-pitched squeal and fall backwards onto his butt as if scared witless by the sudden movements of his friend. Gasped, stuttered apologies sounded but Sehun didn’t respond, barely heard them at all as all he could do was heave himself up with spaghetti-like arms that were aching madly. Then, as he sat there disoriented and dizzy, he watched as Yixing scurried back to the sofa only to hit it with his knees and fall face-first on it. It looked quite funny if Sehun was to be honest, but he didn't laugh nor even slip a chuckle since he had other things on his mind at that moment.

 

For how long had he been sleeping now again? He slowly blinked some eye gunk away, unsure how to find out. While the sun didn't seem to have set entirely it was already dark enough for it to be considered nightfall. Furthermore was the comforting smell of lavender and detergent now but a memory, too strange and too distant and simply out of this world.

 

He tried to figure out how many days had passed since he ended up sleeping on Yixing’s floor, how much time had passed since Luhan had left him with but cocky remarks about his tragic appearance. Could it have been more than twenty-four hours? Forty-eight? Or seventy-two? Sehun wasn't sure but little did it matter—he knew that a coma would have been the least of his problems since his dick felt swollen and his lower body numb, and that was not to mention the sight of a dishevelled Yixing who now sat hugging his own legs with a look of fear and anxiety on his face.

 

Sehun rubbed his eyes lazily with his palms as if dried vomit wasn't still flaking off them.

 

The other’s elbow looked swollen, too swollen, so that part of the nightmare must have been real, after all. As must the part where Sehun had decided to take another piss on the floor since the puddle he was sitting in still reeked of… well, piss. He considered himself rather lucky, at least, that his bladder didn't hurt even though the pain was still everywhere else, and it was because of that luck—or perhaps his lack of self-perseverance—that he ignored it altogether and instead turned to Yixing.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

It left him automatically, revealing his priorities, and he barely recognized own hoarse voice. Yixing did, however, reply much faster than expected, meaning that no one had turned into fish after all.

 

“Don't worry about it,” the latter mumbled with a frown while ironically massaging his own bruised elbow gently.

 

Sehun opened his mouth to speak but found himself interrupted in a heartbeat.

 

“But your arm–”

 

“It doesn't matter. I like it anyway.”

 

Yixing shrugged all questions away before Sehun had time to protest at all and point out that Yixing looked far from okay. “Liking it” didn't make his injuries less serious, but then again had he probably survived worse things than a seemingly fractured joint in the past. That was, of course, just a guess from Sehun’s side but he knew that the other must have worked up his ridiculously high pain tolerance one way or another. He figured that given last night, Yixing’s nerve ending must have short-circuited at some point.

 

A suffocating silence filled every corner of the flat, but the lack of words didn’t manage to muffle the sound of the landlord screaming at some neighbour downstairs. It must have been way before midnight, after all, then, since people had not yet lain down for the night.

 

Sehun almost zoomed out again as if in defence but did eventually find his burgeoning reveries interrupted by Yixing mumbling nearly inaudibly.

 

“Are you going to leave?”

 

There was some kind of indecipherable nonchalance in Yixing’s voice which was nonetheless shaky, causing Sehun to freeze and fear what would come next even though a part of him really wanted to go home.

 

_What do you mean?_

 

He really wanted to ask but refrained, instead only waited for Yixing to make the ultimate decision for him. Would he stay or would he leave? The future was unclear. Would Yixing kick him out? He dared not guess.

 

A deep sigh followed a few excruciating seconds, yet not the kind hinting at annoyance.

 

“I’ll call you a taxi,” Yixing said then, nearly whispered while casting only the briefest of somewhat awkward glances at the still wet puddle of piss and vomit. His fingers were clutching the hems of his pyjama pants, stiff and perspiring and whitening around the joints. “I mean, unless you want to stay of course–”

 

There it was again, the usual dilemma of having to choose between pain and pain.

 

“I don't know.” Sehun spoke with a precautionary coldness without really considering the pros and cons of each available option. “I mean…” he continued, “…I don't need a taxi. I’ll walk.”

 

His stomach immediately twisted on those words, though. He didn't feel like walking nor like moving at all, and even less like facing all of his neglected revising or the realisation of that he had slept through his final pre-exam seminar. No, he thought, he didn't want to leave just yet. He was still very tired and this puddle was nice, more comfortable and cosy than his own bed back home. He liked it, this drying puddle of mistakes. It was his home now. He would stay there forever.

 

Yixing wasn't looking directly at him but down as he kept hugging his own bony legs while twisting and turning as though his ass was seated on a pile of nails mixed with burning coal. The lack of eye contact didn't, however, stop Sehun from spilling more useless words as if his chapped, stupid lips had a will of their own.

 

“Or I mean–” He started stuttering nonsense, unsure what to say or what to do at all. “I could… maybe… I’m kinda… I don't know, I just–”

 

At Sehun’s hesitation, Yixing immediately perked up into a kind of startled awareness, although wincing whenever his previously abused bottom rubbed against the cushions beneath him.

 

“I’ll call Baek instead!” he shouted, frantic.

 

Sehun paused. He didn't understand.

 

It was as though the latter’s brain was more mush than tissue, as if his previous theory about psychic driving was actually not that irrational of a delusion. Yixing must have detected his confusion, however, for he was fast to look up and provide an explanation, although giving birth to more questions than he actually answered.

 

“I mean… I don't have much money but he owes me some so I’ll just ask him to order us some food… o-or something!”

 

In his voice was still that feverish tone, that feeling of panic and ill-hidden desperation, of not wanting to be left on his own in spite of having sent his best friend away earlier.

 

He continued to speak while still hugging his legs, his voice growing shakier by each mumbled word.

 

“I mean, if you really wanna stay, that is… You don't have to, but… but…”

 

He averted his gaze again, started playing with his fingers in a moment of childish unsureness which Sehun had seen so many times before.

 

“You know… I leave soon… a few weeks… so…”

 

Silence ensued. Sehun didn't want to hear it—that manipulative yet very much needed reminder—but couldn't avoid it no matter how much he tried and thus gave in to the feeling of subtle panic that it caused.

 

“Okay…” He gave up, again. ”I guess…”

 

The truth was that didn't know what else to do and it wasn't like his stomach wasn't growling at him, anyway. He knew that he was tired and very, very hungry and that was his excuse for staying yet another damn time.

 

“I’ll stay… I suppose…”

 

A most childlike smile graced Yixing’s lips then and before Sehun knew it, he was being pulled to his feet. His lower back hurt at the forced yet careful movements of his limbs but somehow he didn't mind it at all as long as it was Yixing who was dragging him into the shower to wash the vomit and the piss and the filthiness away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sound of soft chatter and the smell of takeaway met him when he exited the bathroom after an hour of rubbing his skin under too hot water until it felt sore enough to be assumed free of filth. The spot on the floor that had been covered in piss was now clean—at least as clean as it could be—and right on it sat Baekhyun, cross-legged beside Yixing, gazing up automatically from some mindless conversation.

 

“Sehun!”

 

He hurried to his feet and clicked his tongue motherly at the sight of the shirtless, dishevelled Sehun who—despite Yixing’s previous warning—wasn't ready for any additional company.

 

“I don't mean to be rude or anything but damn…” He scanned Sehun’s bare, wet torso before dragging a finger across it slowly. “If had known that you were as skinny as Xing here then I would have brought you some cake or something!”

 

Yixing could be heard giggling softly without feeling as Baekhyun started digging through the pockets of his jeans.

 

“Wait, I think I might actually have some candy right here!” The latter kept searching frantically for something as if the idea of getting to feed Sehun some sugar was the greatest joy of his life so far. “They might be unwrapped but– Oh, here! No, wait, that’s a pill–”

 

Sehun grabbed Baekhyun’s hand to stop him, not in any way keen on consuming whatever junk had been lying in those dirty, bottomless pockets amongst illegal drugs and only God knows what clutter of other suspicious items.

 

“It’s fine, Baek,” he assured whilst not even trying to force even a semblance of a smile. “Thanks anyway.”

 

Baekhyun gazed up at him, perplexed and confused about why anyone would say no to a piece of candy—or in this particular case, unknown medication. Clicking his tongue yet again, he shook his head and pursed his lips whilst continuing to scan Sehun’s half-naked body.

 

“Very well, then…” he muttered as if offended before sitting back down only to cross his arms. “Suit yourself, brat. I don't owe you, anyway.”

 

Sehun did for some funny reason expect Yixing to giggle again but no laughter followed, only an awkward silence which went on for minutes that turned into twenty of all three of them eating without uttering a word. Maybe the food was delicious—it sure looked so—but Sehun wouldn't know since the taste of bile seemed to have etched itself onto his tongue in grazes, making the appetizing noodles dissolve in his mouth yet linger there like ashes, dry and spiceless.

 

It suddenly reminded him of the time after that party when he had overdosed on Baekhyun’s pink little patches and been left with a dysfunctional palet for weeks. It had festered in him—the phantom taste—like the disease currently thriving between his legs, like the sickness which he would surely ignore until his dick started oozing pus, unable to thicken even upon arousal. The memory of vomit had lingered in his mouth until countless packets of cheap, menthol cigarettes had managed to replace it with a dull, throbbing illusion of vacuum, spreading from behind his cracked, numb lips to each and every part of his fleshly prison.

 

That is the power of vomit, he now thought, making mental reminders while struggling to eat to never have a meal of anything after this. He wouldn't risk ever throwing up again so if starving to death was the price of that then so be it, pathetic or not. Swollen tonsils wouldn't save him this time, not since this wasn't the aftermath of some simple overdose.

 

Dinner—or night snack, or whatever this was—passed by rather quickly under the pressure of silence. Perhaps they wouldn't have eaten at all if Yixing hadn’t called Baekhyun over, or maybe they would have been eating their sorrows away, stuffing their faces to fill every void, every crack. Perhaps they would have been gulping bottles of Jack before ending up recreating last night’s catastrophe, or maybe they would have been trying to sleep while in fact just pretending to not be aware of each other’s arms hugging harder than necessary.

 

Either way, it was probably good that Baekhyun had come there to save them from themselves, even if it was just for one pitiful night.

 

Whilst eating, however, Sehun wasn’t sure of what was happening around him, refused to even throw a glance at the clock before that last piece of noodle had been forced down his throat. If the sound of slurping came from Yixing or Baekhyun was as clear to him as his own field of vision, but if the truth was to be told, it was this time by his own choice. The decision to shut all else out for a moment was entirely his own and not his body’s—he had chosen to smear the walls of his glass cage with the sweat on his palms and the tears in his eyes, had banged on it hard, not to escape but to crack it in a successful attempt to not having to see anything at all.

 

He really did let go of reality for a minute, allowing dangerous yet soothing reveries to fill his head.

 

 _The blooming, bloody spider went up the spider web…_ Humming… _itsy bitsy Xing saw a man wrapped in plastic…_ Gagging… _the blooming, bloody rain came down and washed the spider out… precious, precious Lulu fucked him raw and made me watch…_ He laughed… _the blooming, bloody sun came out and dried up all the rain… I woke up perspiring in a puddle of piss…_ He choked… _and the blooming, bloody spider came up the web again…_

 

The end of it came with the last soggy noodle, conveniently enough just as Baekhyun coughed and threw his own empty takeaway box across the room and into the trash bin. The cracks healed then against Sehun’s will, left the glass of his tiny but safe cage as clear and clean as fresh spring water. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the nonsensical blabbering being spat by Baekhyun.

 

“Damn, if this wasn’t ridiculously overpriced… Remind me, Xing—and you too, Sehun—to never order from those imbeciles again! I’ll literally kill myself if I ever have to eat food this bland again!”

 

Baekhyun laughed whilst picking his teeth, showing off a piece of mushy vegetable that lay slick and chewed on his middle finger.

 

“Hey, what about a pact?” he proposed with an ugly, smug grin stretching from ear to ear. “You two seem depressed enough to do it, anyway, with those sad frowns and those pathetic lives of yours… Okay, sorry, sorry… but come on! Whatcha say, huh? A suicide pact for the sake of _the greater food_? Get it? Guys?

 

…guys?”

 

He cleared his throat when no one responded—at this point, they needed even a reminder of his presence—and as he slammed his hand against the floorboards, Yixing jumped and choked on some sauce. The detached hum Baekhyun earned from the latter seemed enough for him in light of the situation which even he must have assumed tense and complicated, but it didn't stop him from rising to his feet and grab his jacket in preparation for leaving.

 

His gaze travelled carefully between the two others, his expression partly annoyed, partly worried about their wellbeing.

 

“Hey Xing,  do you know where Lu is hiding?” He slipped into his shoes, causing Sehun to simultaneously grieve and rejoice over the fact that he was once again being left alone with Yixing. Pretending to struggle with his shoelaces, Baekhyun nevertheless continued with an admonishing voice hinting at something. “I went to his place but he wasn't there and he refuses to pick up whenever I call. Plus, not even Yifan has—and I quote— _any clue where the fucker is,_ so I thought that maybe as his _best friend_ … or whatever you are… that _you'd_ know where he is, Xing.”

 

Yixing only shrugged with disinterest as if he couldn't give a shit about where his best friend had gone, and as neither Sehun could have provided Luhan’s boyfriend with any satisfactory answer even if he had wanted to, Baekhyun raised both eyebrows and sighed, not impressed with the lack of help he received.

 

“Hm. Okay then.”

 

His eyes were squinted, observing them both. He must have realised that something bad that happened but even the best and most open-minded of friends has a limit to how much bullshit he can deal with. Since both Sehun and Yixing remained as quiet as the dead, childishly ignoring his questioning gaze, he simply gave up for the time being and flung the front door up a bit more violently than needed.

 

“By the way,” he muttered under his breath before leaving but without the snide that his boyfriend would have used. “It smells like piss in here. Just so you know.”

 

He then turned on his heel with a quiet huff, placed a pair of sunglasses on the tip of his nose in spite of that the outside was dark and snowy.

 

“… _and you're welcome for the food! You sad, sad homos!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) i lost my groove B( it's just depressing nonsense at this point before the very end of pt 1 (pLS DONT LEAVE ME BTW I HAVE SMTH IN MIND OK)
> 
> 2) NEEEEEEXT chapter (which actually has smth exciting--debatably--happen) was actually supposed to be part of this one but it all became so long lol, so i'll post next part hmmmm.... when? tomorrow? when do ya want it?


	25. Chapter 25

For the remainder of that night, Sehun and Yixing didn't speak much at all. They didn't laugh nor fuck, nor even bicker or fight over some pretentious joke made on existential issues. Yixing didn’t make fun of Sehun’s pessimism like he would have done a few months into their friendship, and likewise did Sehun not once tease Yixing for his elaborate expositions of why pain is an illusion. It wasn’t because of some awkward unwillingness that they just sat there tiredly unlike only weeks ago, but simply out of pure exhaustion.  

 

They were tired, way too tired of it all. As much that there were concerns in need of discussing, they simply let themselves pretend for just once that they weren't even fuckbuddies, but normal friends. They even did things that normal friends would, watched comedies on the laptop but five feet apart, drank premade cocoa but in silence, of course. None of them were really that sleepy seeing as they had both slept for the majority of the day, so not until one hour had turned into seven and when the morning fog had shrouded the moon in its greyness did Sehun and Yixing start sinking deeper into the sofa.

 

The feeling was so much different from the beginning, yet there were things that would never truly change.

 

As the inevitable sleepiness shortened the distance between them, they soon found themselves in their usual position with Yixing’s head right there on Sehun’s lap, with Sehun’s fingers right there in Yixing’s hair. The sad truth, however, was that they did it out of habit, a habit paradoxically still as dangerous as it had been drained of its initial power to cause romantic tension between them.

 

No longer would Sehun’s heart beat as fast as it had done during those times when they had used to share blankets covered with a thin layer of snow. No longer would it skip a beat when Yixing slithered closer to nuzzle into his neck or when their naked limbs entwined beneath the duvet. Nowadays, it would instead slow down, nearly come to a stop whenever they were close or when Sehun caught himself leaning closer than what was safe just to catch a sniff of Yixing’s hair. The passionate excitement, the naive hope of perhaps even getting to share the briefest of real kisses—it was all gone by now, replaced by a sense of ominous calm before the raging storm which would keep returning, repeatedly triggered by one trivial thing or another.

 

Again and again, Sehun wondered what had gone wrong only to realise all over and over again that everything had been wrong even from the beginning. Even now—as he sat there saddened by the fact that he couldn’t reach his face down to peck Yixing’s forehead—did he fool himself into making that same realisation:

 

They had always been doomed. That was just the nature of their being.

 

Still, he kept exploring with his fingers, savouring the texture of Yixing’s hair for future comfort.

 

The locks were drier now, the ends of those messy strands so damaged and split as though they belonged not in this barren climate but somewhere more humid and full of life. It was as though these chaotic months had sucked the life right out of his body, frozen him to the core just like it had done to Sehun. He was probably just a sweet summer’s child in spite of that his birthday was in early October, a precious child whose smile couldn't bloom into its full potential unless illuminated by unshaded sunlight. That was, at least, what Sehun thought, for no human—himself excluded, of course—could remain this sad, this thoroughly pathetic throughout the whole year, right?

 

For one fleeting yet isolated moment, he wondered if Yixing’s eyes were really as black as they would look during sex or some psychotic attack, or if they would shift into a hint of the most sparkling of gold during azure mornings and late summer sunsets. He realised then that the time of their first meeting had been only minutes before the snow had started falling and that Yixing would leave right before spring, thus bringing Sehun to fully understand, at last, that two of them together were meant to exist only like this, that whatever they had would barely subsist and only during the darkest of unforgiving winters.

 

Perhaps it was all just some wild winter dream, an unfortunate product of seasonal depression. Perhaps had Jongin been right, after all, about his childhood friend suffering from some delusion disorder causing him to make Yixing up in his head. That, or Sehun had simply managed to meet the very wrong person at the very wrong time. Yixing was bad for him, he understood as much. The difficult part wasn’t to accept that, though, but being able to let go and move on.

 

He had been trying half-heartedly to not care about this man in an attempt to avoid the eventual loss. Yet had the feelings which he had been trying to suppress only choked him from the inside, slowly turned him insane, brought out the insufferable asshole from within who did nothing but make one bad decision after another. Never before he met Yixing had the idea of choking, hitting, and verbally abusing ever struck Sehun as alluring or even possible, especially when it came to a person he loved. Never had he considered the possibility of himself ever finding pleasure in hurting, and never would he have been able to predict that one day, he would essentially be playing the part of a rapist.

 

His longing for indifference was genuine, really, but he had to care no matter what even if it would so often come out all wrong. Not only was his heart filled with constant worry fighting for space along with the self-pity, but in there was also jealousy, bitterness, and selfish greed, a need to claim Yixing as his and his only. A thought that had for such a long, long time been gnawing on his brain like some noxious bug was now resonating within him at the loudest volume, a what he wanted to be just a harmless question which was nonetheless in need of a definite answer before it was too late to even ask at all. He needed to know before he lost contact with Yixing as he _knew_ that it was far from an impossible outcome, the fact that the other’s impending departure could bring with it the complete destruction of their friendship.

 

He couldn't force himself to hold it back any longer, and so did he utter with the smallest of voices,

 

“Xing..?”

 

Yixing’s breathing was slow and his eyelids were hanging heavy, not even twitching as he hummed in response.

 

“Hm..?”

 

Shifting uncomfortably as much as their restrictive position allowed him to, Sehun let his fingers play nervously with a single lock of the other's frayed hair as he finally gathered the last of his courage and asked him.

 

“How does your rent payment schedule look?” His voice wavered. “Do you have a written agreement? A contract? Anything?”

 

The real meaning behind that poorly disguised question shouldn't have been that hard to grasp, and furthermore had Sehun since the beginning believed in Yixing’s rapidly expanding vocabulary. However, despite this, did Yixing only gaze up with a blank stare, looking so clueless, so dumb, so innocent, so sweet with those naturally pouting lips of his, like always.

 

”Oral agreement. I mentioned it before, I think.” He shut his eyes and seemed to swallow a yawn but remained motionless where he lay, half-asleep on Sehun’s lap. ”It ends before I leave and I can’t find another place and the landlord will kill me if I’m not out of here by the 1st. I’ll just spend the last night before the flight with Lulu or Baek or someone, though, so no worries.”

 

Sehun sighed. Why did he even bother with euphemisms?

 

“I know, I know, it’s just–” He paused, tempted to demand a valid reason as to why Yixing couldn’t spend that last night with _him_. ”That’s not what I meant. I just wanna know, well… How often do you need to…” His palms grew sweaty, his vision slightly disturbed. ”Well, you know…”

 

As his stomach then filled with a clenching pain, it invited also a headache to join it along with quavers in his voice and a burgeoning cold sweat. He was afraid of the answer but he needed to know, needed some basis for this ridiculous jealousy and a reason to strengthen the buried disgust with which he wanted to replace his self-destructive affection towards this man who had turned his life upside down.

 

So he continued, heard his own heart beat in familiar slow motion as he finished the question, although still vaguely. Surely, Yixing would catch his intent. Right?

 

“How… how often do you need to pay your landlord? I mean, how often does he–”

 

“Oh, that. Whenever he wants it. It depends.”

 

It came quickly as if it didn’t need hiding and that fact alone brought Sehun a step closer to the mental breakdown which was bound to happen. The way Yixing shrugged languidly as if what he said meant nothing, the way those words were pronounced with such nonchalance and indifference—it angered Sehun, frustrated him immensely, but also saddened him beyond anything he had experienced that there existed in this man such disregard for not only his own health and pride but also the feelings of those who loved him.

 

Tears started welling up in his eyes from vexation but Yixing wasn't looking, only turned sleepily in his lap, his face now downwards, his expression hidden.

 

“It doesn't really matter,” the latter soon whispered, although with a hint of barely detectable bitterness. “That's your motto, remember? You taught me that.”

 

“Please,” Sehun begged. _It matters, to me._ “How often?”

 

_How often do you let people fuck you like I do? Is it different with them? Are they different from me?_

 

The usual silence, but louder this time; it carried more meaning than every potential answer, conveyed to Sehun a thousand times more than a million heartfelt explanations and excuses. As a matter of fact, he didn't need to hear the rest for what did it matter, the number of men that Yixing had willingly spread his legs wide for? The exchange student was right—it didn't matter at all. But then again, how many pointless things had they let destroy them until this point, anyway?

 

They would all keep caring about stupid things until there came a point where they would be wondering why. It couldn't be helped, that things always changed, that things that were left better ignored and forgotten would end up just like that—forgotten, unimportant. Sehun knew deep inside that maybe one day, be it soon or not, he would upon seeing a photograph of Yixing have to search his own heart for a moment or two to remember all this, to recall at all that a part of him had once wished to live happily with this person.

 

Perhaps that was why he still allowed himself to care for as long as he could, in spite of not wanting to let this lunatic break him. Perhaps that was why he let himself wait for Yixing to break the silence again, why he at this moment didn't just stand up and leave like he actually should have done that first day in the library.

 

“Rent, you say…” Yixing eventually let out with a long, deep sigh, his warm breath muffled against Sehun’s clothed thighs. “If you really need to know… Once a week, maybe twice a week. A few times a week, or every other day. Whenever you're not here, whenever Luhan's not here, whenever’s Baek’s not here, or–”

 

He hesitated. Was he leaving room for a reply? No matter what, though, the lack of all following names—be them the names of strangers or of mutual friends—had Sehun experience a complete warp of reality as the universe seemed to wrap around itself, for a short eternity brutally sucking him into its endless vacuum, stretching him to death.

 

“But as I said,” Yixing then added softly whilst Sehun’s insanity only kept growing and growing, “it doesn’t really matter. We all sleep with who we want. I’m a slut, Sehun, I know, but I chose to be that.”

 

Another few minutes of silence followed and Sehun buried his fingers deeper in Yixing’s hair. He didn’t even notice that he was clutching it hard, pulling at the locks as he would do while they were fucking, that he was hurting Yixing’s scalp just like the other liked it. Neither did he realise that he was clenching his own teeth until his jaw started aching as much as his chest, or that the words that were just about to spill from his lips in sudden unrelenting fury would come back to haunt not only himself, but Yixing too.

 

“So you don't even know?” he hissed whilst seething, blinded by a feeling of exasperation and helplessness. “You can't even say exactly how often you let people fuck you like that? Like some cheap corner whore? Like some brothel kid? And you don’t even care? That’s disgusting. You’re disgusting.”

 

He couldn't force it to stop once it had begun but let his ever-growing frustration be known, kept rambling beneath his held in breath whilst pushing his fingernails down deeper into skin until blood started trickling down the top of Yixing’s head.

 

“It wouldn't even surprise me if you let them pay you for it, too… Is that it, Xing? Is it?” His grip tightened and he unconsciously shoved Yixing’s head further in between his own legs. “Or do you really do it all for nothing? Really? You get to live here for free because of the landlord, I get it. But the others, huh? Luhan? _Baekhyun_ ? The _others_ ? Whoever that is…” He scoffed, not expecting to ever find out. ”I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve just been trying to figure this shit out, but I can't. Do you really enjoy it that much? The pain? Pretending to get raped like a sad little bitch? I genuinely don't understand, so _please_ , Xing, tell me! I’m dying to hear it! Why are you like this?”

 

He paused for air as if he could actually breathe, as if hyperventilation wasn’t already causing him sensory dysfunction in the form of hearing loss and strict tunnel vision. All he could see for a moment or two was that black mop of hair encircled by light, and yet, despite that and the ruthless tinnitus, he soon realised that his thighs were wet. Though his pants had barely a minute ago just been moist from Yixing's warm, even breath, they were now soaked with tears that weren’t his own.

 

Beneath his hands, Yixing was gasping.

 

“ _I can't… Sehun… I can't breathe…_ ”

 

The latter was shaking, struggling in a way so much different from when they were fucking. He was clutching Sehun’s clothes with fragile fingers in repeated attempts to push himself away and break free from the suffocating grip on his head, was squirming and twitching like a weak a little kitten fighting with all it had left for its life. His elbow which had been swollen earlier was now more so, even cracking loudly, matching the sound of his strained, twisted neck which would only break a little more upon any futile movement. He was crying, his sobs so soft yet ugly, and Sehun considered with his hands still pressing.

 

He could end this all now. It would be so quick, so easy. By pushing a bit harder for just another minute, he could smother Yixing, feel the other grow limper with each dying breath and spasm of his muscles. With just one simple, painless jerk, Sehun could snap Yixing’s neck like a stick and free them both from this escalating nightmare once and for all.

 

It was tempting. Then he noticed the pleas.

 

“ _I'_ _m so sorry…_ ” There were whispers, unstable, uttered with such genuine fear and remorse which Sehun had never before heard in his life. ” _I don’t wanna die yet… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I’m… so…_ ”

 

He listened, tried to hear past the screeching and the buzzing, the static noises from inside his own head. If only he could drown the unwanted sounds in the gentle mewling coming from Yixing, if only he could use it to suffocate the anger which was suffocating him, driving him towards murder. While a part of him was beyond doubt longing for this, screaming at him to just do it—do it _now!_ —he was conflicted and questioning who he was, what was happening, and to whom the voice telling him to just kill belonged to.

 

Grabbing Yixing by the neck would feel amazing, as would squeezing it hard without inhibitions until the dying one’s skin turned red and later blue. Getting to hear the gurgling sounds whilst merging Yixing’s Adam’s apple with his larynx, feeling it crack and burst beneath his very own fingers—it would bring Sehun such massive release, such utter bliss and incomparable satisfaction. The sounds of anguish would be beautiful beyond any violent sex they had ever had, the sight of Yixing’s dying form the most exquisite extravaganza, the most divine and transcendent among every art piece on earth. It would be beautiful, and in addition, it would fix everything.

 

Every night that had gone wrong so far, every hurtful word and unfortunate misunderstanding and the fear of being separated in just a few weeks—truly, nothing would matter anymore once Yixing died and took his masochism with him. His death would solve this entire mess, relieve Sehun of the pain, even free Yixing himself of his recurring illusions of walls tumbling in and a man wrapped in plastic telling him lies about pills. It was a win-win situation, mutually beneficial as no one would have to suffer anymore.

 

Sehun indulged in this fantasy for seconds, still not loosening the grip on Yixing as anticipation and elation replaced the anger. He basked in it, savoured the forbidden mental image of Yixing’s lifeless body in his arms, and as he came up with yet another reason to kill him, he made up his mind and let his lips don a malicious grin.

 

Luhan would not have his best friend anymore. The fight would be over. It would be perfect.

  
  
  
  
  
  


…but then what?

  
  
  
  
  
  


“ _Sehun… please…_ ”

  
  
  
  
  
  


He let go. And he realised what he had done.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Perhaps Luhan was good, after all. Better than Sehun would ever be, at least.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Author's Note:**

> This is cross-posted from my AFF.


End file.
